L4D Double Feature
by xmodius
Summary: Sequel to Movie Night. After a night to remember, the group "visitor" mysteriously disappears. As the four pursue their missing companion, they discover they have more in common than one night of passion, and more to look forward to than just movies.
1. Coming Attraction

L4D Double Feature

_Sequel to Movie Night. After a night to remember, the group "visitor" mysteriously disappears. As the four pursue their missing companion, they discover they have more in common than one night of passion, and more to look forward to than just movies._

_**Legal Disclaimer: All characters, as well as the plot about the zombie apocalypse, are property of Valve. However, I do own the particular sub plot to this story, so no plagiarizing or I will hunt you down with my cat launcher and shoot you with stray felines (cat launcher property of Seth McFarlane, here's hoping he actually develops one).**_

_Sexual Content Warning (Rated M): This story contains sexual themes and is not suitable for those under the age of 18, men & women of the cloth, members of the "promise ring" fellowship, bible jockeys and other deeply religious sticks in the mud, or anyone else who would be offended and blow the whistle on me or flame me to death with promises of damnation or accusations that my twisted imagination is the product of inbreeding. Like Movie Night, I apologize for absolutely NOTHING in this story. If you don't like stories with sexual content, stop right now and go find some Disney to read. If you are part of the aforementioned groups and you read on, don't ruin it for everyone else by flaming me on my reviews page. Just like television, if you don't like it, watch something else._

Authors Note: Whew. Ok got the important stuff out of the way. This is a sequel of sorts to L4D Movie Night. If you've read Movie Night, then we both know why you're here. Don't worry, no one saw you coming I promise, you can take off the fake mustache and remove the trench coat…perverts. "Now step into my parlor," said the author to the reader.

WARNING: If you have _not_read Movie Night, pick up your things and get out, it's a prerequisite for this story, otherwise a lot of this won't make sense. Go read it and leave me a review. This story, much like its predecessor, is an OoC (Out of Character) story, so don't flame me about how Bill would say this over that, or Zoey wouldn't know anything about giraffes or orange flavored lube. I promise to attempt to remain as on track and as close to the characters' personalities from the first story as I can. You won't suddenly see a Tank clapping his hands while a smoker jumps rope with his own tongue, but still… keep an open mind. Save the nitpicking on minor details for a story that's more serious. :-)

One other gripe, don't be a "Favorite Story" whore. You guys know who you are. You lazy bastards won't leave a three word review like, "Great! Want More!" but you will add my story to your favorites list, which I then discover is longer than the lines will be at the clinics with Universal Healthcare. Nothing makes an author feel special like seeing his/her story is your favorite number 1022 on your list. Seriously, if you like the story that much and you want to add it as a favorite, great, but leave a review. They make me smile and give angels their wings. ;-D

Having said all that, enjoy and please review, anonymous reviews are enabled! Also time you dedicate to read this is non refundable, no exchanges, no returns, blah blah blah…

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Chapter 1 – Coming Attraction

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Golden orange rays of morning sunlight peeked through the bars on the safe-room door, sparkling off the long mane of platinum-white hair that cascaded like a waterfall down the smooth, gray back of its waking owner. The warmth of the morning light felt so pleasant on her skin, as did the warmth of the body resting beneath her. Her amber eyes fluttered open to the sight of her lover. His head was turned to the side and he was snoring quietly, a small pool of drool forming by his beard.

The witch yawned quietly, lifting her head to stare at the human who slumbered beneath her. The "witch" felt more like a queen as she remembered the night of pleasure and ecstasy she'd shared with him. She could feel his heartbeat against her breasts as his chest steadily rose and fell with his breathing. His hands were still folded around hers, gently squeezing her claws. The gray woman blushed, remembering the feel of those skilled hands all over her body. The way his rough calloused fingers pinched her nipples, his palms pawing at her tender breasts, and his intense grip on her ass when he plunged into her. She couldn't help the shiver of excitement that rippled through her body, her nipples hardening beneath her tank top and a moist feeling growing between her legs. Oh, how she wanted to take this man again, but she felt bad about waking her lover from such a peaceful sleep.

She sighed and gently laid her head against his chest, thinking about the circumstances in which she found herself. That was new to her, being able to remember and think. Nearly all of her memory as well as her cognitive faculties had been wiped out by her viral transformation. All she could feel was raw, directionless emotion, but not the rage the other infected felt. Instead her mind was blighted with utter sorrow. And her only way to convey her suffering was to cry.

And crying was all she knew.

Bawling, sobbing, wallowing in her misery. For the only things she could remember were horrifying visions and fragmented memories of torture and anguish. However, since she met these four survivors, she had nothing to be miserable about. She thought to be doomed to spending forever utterly alone and unhappy, until the moment her sorrow was interrupted…

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* * *

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"_God damn it Francis what are you doing?" Bill asked in exasperation while Zoey and Louis simply shook their heads. The biker simply laid a finger by his smiling lips as he began creeping up to the sobbing witch that was off the side of the path in the woods, clearly out of the way of the survivors' trek._

"_Dusk is coming man!" Louis said in a hushed gripe. "We have to get moving, and that witch isn't in our way! Just leave her alone!"_

_Francis ignored Louis' pleas, determined to cr0wn yet another witch. "Gonna give her somethin' to cry about," the biker said with a smirk as he drew ever closer to the infected woman sitting on the ground. She was covering her face with one huge claw and sobbing to herself, feeling lonely and miserable. As Francis approached, one of the laces on his boot had untied itself. With his next step, he'd snagged himself._

_Francis tripped and fell with a cry, his shotgun landing right next to the witch who let out a surprised gasp of her own, staring at the human on the ground, too afraid to move. She noticed the other three humans behind him were equally surprised, all of them frozen in shock. With a curious growl, she began to stand._

"_Run!" Francis shouted, breaking the silence as he quickly scooped up his shotgun and scrambled to his feet, hauling ass with the rest of the group to the safe house that was just up ahead. The witch, half on her feet, was yelling and crying, reaching out with one claw to the only company that was now running away. The aged, bearded man paused and turned around, locking eyes with the sobbing witch for a heartbeat before coming to his senses and breaking into a sprint, passing the younger biker who was half running, half hopping, trying not to trip over his untied laces._

_Was she that hideous? Was she that frightening? Everyone, including other infected, made it a point to stay away from her. These four people were the first to actually approach her, and even though they ran away she swore she felt "something" when the gray-eyed human stared back at her. She couldn't let them go._

_Sobbing quietly, she ran after the fleeing survivors hoping she could catch up._

A gurgle in her stomach interrupted her memory. The witch couldn't remember when she'd last eaten, but right now she was craving something sweet. She carefully climbed off her lover, taking care not to wake him. A cold morning breeze blew through the bars causing her to shiver. She spied the green jacket of her companion in a heap on the floor. She threw it about her shoulders, her claws preventing her from slipping her arms through the sleeves.

With light feet, the witch approached the door and carefully removed the steel bar. It was strange, before she never would've known how to unlock a door, but ever since last night her cognitive and motor skills seemed to be piecing themselves together. The sheer fact that she could remember everything that happened the night before with such clarity was proof that her shattered memory was slowly coming back.

The witch took one last lingering glance at her lover, who had turned on his side in an unconscious effort to cover himself, his pants still half around his knees. On the other couch the two naked men were snoring quietly, though they seemed to have shifted towards their shared lover in the center. The girl had curled up between them, a look of utter content on her face as she was snuggled between the two men. The witch smiled, thinking of all the excitement those three had stirred within her when she watched them.

The golden-eyed woman quietly closed the safe room door and took off in a fast walk. She would have to hurry if she wanted to get back before they awakened. As the morning sunlight kissed her gray skin, she began to sing. Singing while she walked was not uncommon for her. She used to sing a sad song whenever she walked around, her anguished sobs and cries coming out in her melancholy wailing. Now her singing was more like the sound of an angelic choir, her happiness flowing into every note.

She never noticed she was being followed.

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* * *

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Bill awoke at the sound of a soft "clank" of metal, his eyes popping open as he reflexively reached for his side arm, instead only grabbing bare thigh.

"Wha? What happened?" The vet asked no one quietly as he slowly sat up, trying to remember. Another cold breeze blew through the bars, and the war vet blushed, realizing his "gun" was completely exposed. He stood quickly, pulling up his pants hoping the others wouldn't see him in a state of undress. As he looked down to buckle his belt, he noticed his shirt was sliced up the center.

"When the hell did this happen?" Bill asked no one as he looked around for his missing jacket to cover himself. The couch cushions were sliced and punctured in numerous places, the white stuffing poking through the fabric. Did a fight occur in here? He swore he shut the safe room door. As if that weren't enough, the war vet glanced over at the other couch and beheld a shocking sight.

Louis, Zoey, and Francis were sleeping together, naked as jaybirds.

The surprising sight jolted the old man's memory as last night's events came rushing back. The movie make-out scene, the witch cuddling up to him, Zoey indirectly encouraging the witch to act rather forward, the witch lighting his lustful fire, Zoey initiating a threesome with Louis and Francis, and then… the wildest night of sex he'd had in a long time.

But… where was the witch?

"_Did she leave?" _Bill asked himself as he gave up trying to find his missing jacket. She must have taken it with her.

The safe room door was closed, but the reinforced bar was leaning against the wall. The witch had left at some point between last night and this morning, and that of itself was strange. Infected weren't able to open doors, but the witch had done just that, and apparently she was rather quiet about it.

That aside, Bill pondered the motive for the witch's mysterious disappearance. His "movie date" had snuck off, and he felt strangely discomforted by that. The fact that she'd taken his jacket and was so careful not to wake him was surprising, yet a small part of him was disappointed that she'd left so abruptly. Then again, all that had transpired last night seemed so surreal. The old vet still couldn't believe he had the most intense sex in his life with a witch, or that Zoey, Francis, and Louis had a threesome.

He sighed resignedly. Trying to decipher the night's events would accomplish nothing. Regardless of why the witch left, the safety of the group was paramount and it was time to get going. Bill quietly approached the naked trio on the couch.

"Zoey…" Bill whispered as he tried to rouse the nude college girl. She murmured quietly, but didn't wake. She was curled up in an attempt to cover most of her naughty parts from the morning chill. Bill paused, staring at her in puzzlement. Zoey had certainly been the catalyst in last night's events. However, even when she was completely involved with Louis and Francis, he'd noticed her eyeing him on more than one occasion, especially when the witch was riding him like an enthusiastic cowgirl. He knew college kids these days were more liberated and open minded, but last night showed just how much. Still, he wondered if there was more to her constant stares than mere fascination with the circumstances.

Bill shook his head. This wasn't the time to ponder if Zoey had a thing for older men. Everything that happened last night would affect the group's focus, and it was important to clear the air about it as soon as possible. The last thing any of them needed to do was think about the night before while fighting for their lives.

"Zoey," he whispered again, gently nudging her.

Zoey stirred as Bill prodded her shoulder. She yawned quietly, stretching as her eyes adjusted to the morning light pouring through the safe room door. She slowly realized that she was still completely naked, and that Bill was standing right in front of her staring at her nakedness. What surprised her was how turned on she suddenly felt at the idea that Bill might be lusting after her body.

"Good morning," she whispered with a smile as she carefully moved Louis' stray hand from her butt. Bill's ripped shirt was hanging open, exposing his rather toned and muscled chest and abs, earning a stare from the college girl. Zoey was very impressed that a man of his age had a body that younger men would envy. Her face began to flush as she remembered last night, the way the aged war vet screwed his pretty gray lover into next week. She shivered in excitement at the thought, the wish, of being the one bouncing on him last night, feeling every forceful thrust reaching all the way to her womb.

It was time to make that wish come true.

Zoey stood, not bothering to pick up any of her clothes or cover herself in any way, smiling coyly at him. Her auburn hair was hanging freely about her shoulders, the tips stopping just above her hardening pink nipples. Bill's jaw was hanging open, the words stuck on his lips as Zoey casually faced him, naked as the day she was born and not the least bit modest about it. This was throwing off his plan to talk about the night before.

"Zoey… ahh…" he stammered, mentally chastising himself for ogling her. Christ he was old enough to be her father. "We need to… uhh… talk… yes… talk about…"

The petite college girl giggled inwardly at the typically fearless war vet's apparent nervousness. It only made her want him more.

"Talk?" She asked sultrily, entering his personal space. The war vet backed away, as nervous as he was last night when the witch was coming on to him. "You seem to be having a difficult time talking," she said, backing him against a wall, her body less than an inch away. "Talk is cheap and overrated anyway. Actions speak louder than words you know." She punctuated this remark by running her hands over his chest, rubbing and squeezing his muscles.

Bill's head was swimming. He had to stop this now before it got out of hand. He firmly grabbed her by the shoulders, holding her away and glaring at her.

"Girl, don't make me get physical," he said, trying to put forth as much faux anger and parental insistence as he could. The truth of the matter though was he'd never, ever raise a hand to her, and he was pretty sure she knew.

Zoey smirked at the double meaning behind Bill's words. He could threaten all he wanted, she knew he wouldn't act on it. She quickly shoved his hands from her shoulders and ran her hands into his shirt, grabbing his back and grinding her perky breasts against his pecs.

"I love a man who's aggressive. Like when you spanked your movie date for being impatient with you," she purred, leaning in close to nibble on his ear. "That was so... hot," she drew out the last word with a lustful, heated breath on his ear. "Are you gonna spank me too? I'm misbehaving right now…" She suckled his earlobe, earning a groan from the aged veteran as his "gun" poked at her exposed charms through his pants. "Something tells me that's not your side arm poking me," the horny survivor murmured, amidst her oral affection.

Bill growled, a mixture of both sexual and literal frustration. Zoey was pressing her body against him, rubbing her mound against his bulge. She wanted him badly, especially after coming to terms with the fact that she cared for him, as well as the other two survivors, more than anyone she'd ever known. Bill's hands betrayed him as they traveled to her butt, his fingers squeezing and digging into her soft cheeks, grinding her bare front against his. Zoey moaned, moving to nibble at Bill's neck, her erect nipples brushing against his chest hair.

"I'm old enough to be your dad, or even your granddad for Christ sake," he mumbled, trying to think of what to say to stop her without hurting her feelings.

"I don't care." She said matter-of-factly, slipping one of her hands into his pants to feel his heat directly. The situation was very exciting. Louis and Francis were still passed out, but they could wake at any moment, and the danger of "being caught" really turned her on.

"Zoey…" Bill said as she continued nibbling at him. He had to stop her, for a lot of reasons he was sure, even though he couldn't think of a single one at the moment. If she kept this up he wouldn't be able to stop himself from throwing her down on the other couch right now and screwing her silly. This just wasn't the time. He needed a real curve ball to throw her off.

"I… I love you." He stated.

Zoey halted her sexual advances and stared him as a huge smile spread across her face. Her eyes sparkled like a bride on her wedding day, and Bill was a little unnerved. It reminded him of the witch's expression when he'd cuddled with her. What was supposed to throw Zoey off had completely backfired, taking _him _off guard instead.

"Bill..." Zoey sighed.

"That is," Bill stammered, trying to recover, "I… I love you like a friend and I have a lot of respect for you. And I don't want to lose that due to acting impulsive…"

Zoey's broad smile flipped to an upset frown. Her sparkling blue eyes began to water as her lips trembled.

Bill's swallowed; maybe that was a little harsh?

"I think I understand," she said quietly, stepping back as she fought to contain her tears. "You think I'm just the group slut who wants to 'let off steam' and you're the 'sloppy seconds.' Is that about right?"

"No! No!" Bill said quickly as she turned away, truly hurt. He gently touched her cheek, wiping away one of her tears. "I just don't understand how you can…"

"Want to sleep with you after everything that happened last night?" She finished, wiping her eyes. "Or maybe you don't understand why I did what I did?"

Bill nodded. He hated to see his petite comrade upset, but he did indeed want to know what was driving her actions.

"Bill, I..." Zoey sighed. She wished Francis and Louis were awake to hear this, it was important to lay it out right now how she felt about all of them.

"Woah. Did I miss something?"

Zoey spun around in surprise at the sound of Louis' voice. Both he and Francis were awake, sharing an equal expression of confusion.

"No." She said firmly, turning to face her two lovers. "In fact your timing couldn't be better. I have to tell you all something very important."

"Sorry… what?" Francis asked, rather distracted. He was gazing at the nude college girl with a lustful eye, remembering the fun from last night. Zoey rolled her eyes. Leave it to Francis to break the tension in the room with his boorish gawking.

Louis laughed and slapped Francis on the shoulder, startling out of his dreamy-eyed state. "Zoey maybe you should get dressed first." He said, passing in front of the biker to retrieve his own clothes and hers, giving the tattooed survivor an unwanted close up of his lower half.

"Watch where you point that thing!" Francis growled, getting up to retrieve his own clothes. Louis just snickered as he tossed Zoey her clothes, who began dressing as well. She shot Bill a look of disappointment that their moment was interrupted, more so by Bill's misconceptions than Louis and Francis waking up. The three survivors finished dressing and re-equipping their firearms.

"Now I know without a doubt the rumors about black guys are false." Francis quipped as he threw on his leather vest, earning a glare from Louis.

"Hey man, I'm likely the last black guy left alive so that makes the rumor true, 'cause lord knows my 'package deal' overshoots that 'quarter-inch killer' you've got by a country mile!" Louis retorted with a snarky smile as he adjusted his red tie. Francis growled, ready to go toe to toe over the shot on his manhood until Zoey interjected.

"Guys, you both are top-billing in my book," she said, smiling and holding their hands. Francis simply grumbled while Louis grinned ear to ear, "in fact, all three of you are, and that's what I was about to explain to Bill."

"So where's the witch that rode Bill hard and put him away wet?" Francis asked, recalling the horny infected who took part in the little sex party.

"Later Francis," Louis said dismissively. He looked apologetically at Bill who seemed to flinch at the mention of the missing witch. "Zoey… you were saying?" The three men faced the college student, her nervous posture a stark difference from her bold attitude last night.

"Well… all three of you are very special to me. We're kinda like a family, albeit a crazy dysfunctional one," she said, earning a chuckle from the group. "We're all we have, and I wouldn't have it any other way. I never would have met such great men under any other circumstances..."

The three men smiled as Zoey turned her head down in embarrassment; pouring her heart out wasn't something she was used to doing.

"All of you have done more for me… heck for each other as well, than anyone I've ever known… or dated for that matter. I've become attached to you all, and…" she paused, blushing hard, "well… attracted to you all as well. That's why I… did what I did last night." She said looking between Louis and Francis, both of them nodding in understanding. She turned shy eyes to Bill. "I want to share everything with all of you, because you three are all very special to me."

Louis smiled, gently touching Zoey's cheek. "I understand completely. I've grown pretty fond of everyone here too, even Francis." He said. "I'll always do my very best for you, Zoey… for all of you." He finished, addressing his comrades.

Francis scratched the back of his head. "I hate to admit it, but I'm pretty fond of you guys too when you aren't pissing me off," he said as he placed a hand on Zoey's shoulder, "Even when I have to baby sit grandpa and the college boy wise ass over there." He smirked at Bill and Louis, who both just glared at him.

Bill sighed, mulling over his own feelings towards Zoey, Louis, and Francis. They really were like a family, at least in the sense of a very close group of friends. He felt like the father figure of the group, being protective and sometimes a bit scolding. Bill knew it probably came off a bit harsh, but that was simply because he felt responsible for them. He'd lived a long and happy life; it wasn't fair that these kids had their futures stolen away by this nightmare. They deserved any chance to make something of the rest of their time on this earth, and Bill had promised himself that he would give his life to protect his "adopted children." He looked on them fondly. Louis was a positive young man who believed in only the best from people. Though he was green, he'd adapted to the situation very quickly for a civilian, a fact that didn't escape the war veteran. Francis appeared a cynical bastard on the surface, but the aged war vet knew it was only a defense mechanism. When the shit hit the fan, the biker was there to pull everyone out. As for Zoey, she was spunky, brave, passionate, loving, and a killer shot who didn't crack under pressure; definitely not the typical college student. Although she was young, he couldn't deny that she was attractive, and knowing that what she wanted was more than just causal sex made it a little easier to for him to understand why she wanted to give herself to him.

Still, he didn't want her, or any of them, to become too attached, lest he had to make good on his promise.

"I care a lot about you too," he said as he pulled his petite comrade in for a hug. Zoey sighed in resignation, kissing his cheek, wondering if that was just a cop-out for the old man.

Despite this very heartwarming confession and the entire group's understanding, Bill's thoughts kept wandering back to the witch who was likely long gone by now. He hoped she was alright, wherever she was. He wished he knew why she'd snuck away, but all these questions would have to wait. Surviving this nightmare was all that mattered. At least now everything was out in the open. The group could focus on heading to their next destination.

"I'm glad the air has been cleared, because we need to keep bringing our 'A game' to these crazy bastards," Bill said. "Are we ready?"

The three young survivors nodded, readying their weapons.

"All right people lets go," Bill said gruffly as he readied his assault rifle, turning his back to the three as he faced the daylight streaming in from the safe room door.

"Uh… what about the witch?" Louis asked, recalling Bill's reaction when Francis mentioned the missing woman.

"It doesn't matter," Bill said firmly, grateful the others couldn't see his crestfallen expression. "What matters is we make it to the next safe house. According to the writing on the walls, we just need to follow the hiking paths until we reach the river."

The four survivors exited the room to the morning lit skies above the Pennsylvania woods. They were relieved to find very few common infected scattered about. Most of them were leaning against trees or staggering around aimlessly. The group followed the beaten path that was the hiking trail, dispatching the few commoners that took notice. Although they were making fast progress, the lack of action was beginning to bore the leather-vested biker.

"So what do you think happened to Bill's 'vampire'?" Francis asked no one in particular, hoping to get a chuckle or two. "You think she hurried back to her coffin to cry about sleeping with an old man?"

Zoey kept several choice four-letter expletives to herself, while Louis simply continued scanning the woods. Bill snorted as he lit a fresh cigarette, knowing that Francis was simply bored with the lack of action and trying to stir up shit.

"For the last time, they're zombies, Francis." He said dryly as he pocketed his lighter, trying to ignore the shot at his age. Frankly, he was more upset that Francis was indirectly picking on the witch.

"Sorry." Francis said sarcastically. "Did that _zombie _have to blow the dust off your di-"

Francis' remark was stopped dead. Bill quickly turned around and sucker punched him hard in the gut, landing him on his ass and knocking the wind out of him. Francis coughed hard and gasped, his lungs sucking in air frantically. The seasoned veteran glared at the downed biker, his steel gray eyes a conundrum of calm fury.

"Francis, we may all be comrades here, but if there's one rule I expected even _you _to know, it's never poke fun at another man's Johnson… or the _woman _riding it." Bill said in an even, yet angry tone, staring him down. Francis grumbled as he picked himself up. Louis chuckled, remembering how pissy Francis got when he poked fun at his "package."

Zoey bit her lip as she stared at Bill's alpha male stance, feeling that familiar hot flush of excitement towards the war vet's aggressive action. He was likely almost twice the muscled biker's age, and he'd just laid him out flat with one punch as though it were nothing. It was clear that Bill was just as tough as the burly biker, if not more so. _"That witch was one lucky bitch." _She thought to herself with a hint of jealousy. _"Why on earth she'd leave him is…"_

The four survivors froze as a peculiar sound emanated in the distance.

Bill held up one hand, a silent motion to the group to freeze. A slight breeze blew, rustling the leaves in the trees. As the wind died down, the sound could be heard again. It was a little ways off, but in the direction they were heading.

"It almost sounds like… singing?" Zoey asked in a half whisper.

"Yeah," Louis said as the distant notes reached his ears, "though I don't hear any words."

Francis cocked an eyebrow. "It doesn't sound human." The others nodded slowly. It certainly didn't, though it was no less beautiful. The four survivors were in awe at the attraction of this "sirens' call."

"Keep alert, team." Bill said as he lowered his hand and resumed the advance. After everything he'd seen, nothing would take him by surprise him at this point.

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* * *

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He'd been following the scent since his enhanced sense of smell detected it on the wind. The hunter knew that smell all too well, the smell of a survivor. It was faint and ordinarily would've gone unnoticed, but this hunter hadn't eaten in days and he was becoming desperate for a meal. The mutated infected leaper had scaled some of the taller pines in the woods to get a better vantage. He spied his solitary prey walking along a beaten path the humans had forged, heading towards the river.

_Food._

The hunter licked his chops in anticipation. He sprang between the trees, getting closer still, preparing to pounce from a high branch. Only until his target was about 25 feet away did he realize his approaching "prey" was not human. The jacket was the source of the human scent, but the wearer's enormous claws and glowing amber eyes meant only one thing: The approaching singing creature was one of his very unstable and very dangerous infected sisters.

_Crier? Witch?_

The hunter growled in confusion. He'd seen his infected sisters walking around during the day, but rather slowly and randomly, wailing sadly and sobbing the entire time. They hated being disturbed and their huge claws were lethal, allowing them to decapitate anyone with one swipe. Luckily their slow walking, loud sad caterwauling, and almost agoraphobic behavior made them easy to avoid. However, this witch was nothing like the others. She sang aloud happily, and her walk was deliberate, quick, and focused as she followed the path.

He lept to another tree to get a view from the side. She was headed towards the large abandoned cabin. The hunter remembered humans gathering at that cabin, though for what reason he didn't understand. All he knew was they made easy prey there. The cabin was huge, with many places to hide. It was an easy meal, so long as he was inside when the large red door closed. However, he hadn't scored a kill in over a week at that place. Why was she heading there? Was there food he didn't know about?

Suddenly his nostrils picked up another scent from the approaching witch. It was foreign, yet vaguely familiar. He could smell the witch, though it was more than just her body scent. It was… something else… something that nearly excited him into a frenzy. It made him want to pounce on her, despite his gut instincts that such an act would be suicidal. Though he was famished, more than hunger was gnawing at his mind. He wanted her, but not just to feed. His face flushed and a strange heat built within his groin. It was very confusing, but very insistent.

_Pounce! Ravish! Feed!_

The hunter growled, trying to ignore this strange new craving. He was so hungry that even another infected seemed delicious, especially this one. Unlike his bony looking sisters, this one appeared full and healthy, much like the survivors he'd been tailing the night before. He had planned on waiting for them to come out of their safe refuge, but the smell of his "false prey" had thrown him off. He stared at her voluptuous form, his eyes wandering down her body…

He growled gutturally, this new urge for the witch was clouding his mind. He retreated through the woods towards the cabin. Inside, behind the door he would wait. She would come. He would take her by surprise and silence this strange new desire.

Then he would feed.

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* * *

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The witch continued her search for food, her singing echoing throughout the forest. The sweet scent grew stronger as she followed the path. And yet despite her hunger, she kept thinking of her lover, her memory playing the events from last night over and over. She was arousing herself thinking of him constantly, and on more than one occasion she thought about turning back. She didn't want to leave him or the other humans, but her stomach's insistent growling demanded sustenance. She'd been walking at a hurried pace, hoping to find something soon. As she followed the path over the next ridge, she came upon a large cabin in the distance, the sweet smell beckoning to her. She made her way down the slope as the aroma grew stronger. Her mouth was watering as she climbed the steps to the entrance. Suddenly she paused, her singing coming to an abrupt halt.

Something didn't feel right.

Her stomach gurgled, pressing the urge to eat. She hesitated, her sense of unease strong. She walked in slowly, scanning the first floor. In the living room a strange black box sat on a table next to the wall, with strange noise emanating from it. Perhaps that's what was giving her a sense of unease? There were stairs to her right, and an open room to the left.

The witch smelled the air again. The lingering sweet scent was off to the left. She walked into the kitchen area, spying some open cupboards. Tipped over on the first shelf was a jar of honey, its gooey contents spilling onto the cupboard and counter top. She greedily snatched up the jar and began drinking the sugary liquid.

The hunter crawled from behind the open door, slowly creeping towards the witch. Her attention was diverted as she supped her honey. He would be on her in a second…

The floor beneath the hunter's feet creaked, causing the witch to turn around in surprise.

With a blood curdling screech, the hunter lunged towards his startled prey.

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A/N: More coming. I hadn't planned on this being more than one chapter, but the story just grew on me. Review please.


	2. Our Feature Presentation

_**Legal Disclaimer: All characters are property of Valve, as is the main zombie apocalypse plot. However, I own the rather dirty and twisted sub plot that is this story, though frankly I doubt anyone else would try to plagiarize me and take credit for it. The devil is sitting by me right now, while the cats from my "cat launcher" construct the large wicker basket his unholiness will carry me home in. ;-)**_

_Mature Content Warning: This story contains sexual themes and should not be read by those under 18, religious types, people concerned about making deceased loved ones roll over in their graves, etc., etc., etc. _

_Unnecessary Warning: Like swimming without a life guard present, dive into this story at your own risk. Reading this story may result in: blindness, revulsion, nausea, unnaturally negative thoughts towards the author, unwanted mental images, or in extreme cases, erratic and repetitive jerking (men)/diddling (women) motions, followed by muscle spasms, followed by expulsion of bodily fluids, and stained/ruined/smelly computer equipment and/or furniture._

Author's Notes: We're cranking the heat up here folks. Don't mind the stalagmites growing around you or that guy with the pitchfork and pointy tail, he's just the caretaker. ;-) Remember, I like reviews! They make me smile, and when I smile, I think twisted thoughts which in turn I write down. So review! Tell me what you like or what you want (not that I'll necessarily do anything, but you never know).

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Chapter 2: Our Feature Presentation

The four survivors continued to follow the path, the strange singing becoming louder as they progressed. More common infected were beginning to pop up, but thankfully the group had yet to see a horde.

As they cleared the ridge, their destination came into view off in the distance. It was a proverbial "cabin by the river" except this cabin was huge. It looked more like a reinforced summer home. All of the windows were covered and locked with heavy storm shutters, and the front door had been replaced with the trademark red, steel safe room door.

"Looks like whoever bought this house to 'get away from it all' decided to 'take it all with them.'" Louis quipped at the size of the next safe house. The others nodded in agreement.

The enchanting singing came to an abrupt halt. Another breeze blew, the rustling of the leaves creating an eerie ambiance.

"I see someone…" Zoey said, raising her rifle to get a better view through the scope. Standing at the open safe room door was the witch. She looked apprehensive as she slowly entered the house.

"Bill, your witch just went into that cabin," Zoey said, lowering her weapon.

"How do you know it was the witch from yesterday?" Louis asked.

"Because she has Bill's jacket draped over her shoulders," Zoey said, grinning at Bill as he breathed a sigh of relief.

"Still," Zoey said, "she looked nervous about something. We should…"

An inhuman scream emanated from the entrance of the cabin, piercing the silence like a knife. Birds flew out of the trees, cawing at the frightening sound.

And then the collective cry of the horde sounded from behind the survivors.

Infected seemed to pour out of the woods from everywhere, and like a tidal wave of madness and death, they flooded towards the survivors. Zoey laid out suppression fire with her sniper rifle, one of the rounds tearing through the throat of a rushing commoner. He gurgled, clutching his throat as he fell, tripping up two others that were right behind him. They weren't down long, babbling madly as they clambered to their feet. Louis blew the brains out of several more with his M16, trying to keep as much distance between himself and the horde as possible. Francis, preferring up close and personal "wet work," waited until a crowd was nearly toe to toe with him before unloading his auto-shotgun, blasting the heads of the group into a pink mess.

Bill, with only one thought in his mind, spit out his cigarette and unloaded his twin pistols on two commoners close enough to rip him to pieces. The instant they crumpled to his feet, he took off in a dead sprint towards the cabin.

"The hell? Get back here old man! Don't you go A.W.O.L on us!" Francis yelled as he cracked an attacking zombie with the butt of his auto shotgun.

The distressed war vet never heard the biker's cry of protest; he was more focused on the source of the terrifying scream and the fact that the safe room door had suddenly slammed shut.  
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The hunter screeched and lunged for the startled witch, who dropped the jar of honey on the counter and leapt out of the way just in time, her attacker slamming into the counter top. The witch shrieked, lashing out with one of her long claws as the hunter spun on his heels, missing his throat and raking him across the face instead, earning a yelp of surprise from the assailant. The hunter snarled, fresh blood running down the cuts on his cheeks. The pain only fueled his insistent new desire.

The witch bolted for the door, but the hunter leapt over her, slamming the door shut with his pounce. He growled in anger and anticipation as he faced her. The witch turned to retreat again, but the hunter lashed out with one claw, catching her in the back. She stumbled into the living room, nearly falling into the table with the strange black box. The force of the blow knocked her down, but the jacket took the hunters claw for her, leaving two large gouge marks on the back as it was ripped from her shoulders.

The witch quickly flipped over, preparing to skewer the hunter on his next leap, but he was too fast. He pounced on her hard, knocking the wind out of her as his claws dug into her chest. While the witch attempted to catch her breath, the hunter pinned her deadly claws by her head. The gray griever tried to break his grip, but the hooded creature seemed to have a wellspring of untapped strength. He sniffed at her, her whimpering cries causing him to salivate. He rumbled in his throat, sniffing and licking at her exposed breasts, her ripped tank top having fallen open. She tasted delicious, but first he had another urge to satisfy.

The golden-eyed crier growled in frustration, not wanting this kind of attention from the likes of this creature. The hunter licked a bead of sweat from her neck. She made an attempt to bite him, but the hunter tightened his grip, his claws sinking into her flesh causing her to yell in pain. He glared at her, a silent warning that if she tried that again she'd regret her actions ten fold. She cried as he licked her wounds above her breasts, ready to return his attention to her supple body. With her resistance replaced by fear, the hunter ripped her panties with one claw, then ripped the front of his pants, exposing the throbbing urge that demanded satisfaction.

The witch felt sick. She had an idea where this was going and she wanted no part of it. All she wanted was at the safe room she'd foolishly left behind. She wailed loudly as the hunter shrieked sadistically, preparing to violate her.

But the sound of a metal door slamming open silenced them both.

The two infected tuned and saw an angry towering survivor in the doorway, and his gray eyes held the icy stare of death itself.

"Get away from her you son of a-" Bill yelled, as he cracked his lover's would-be rapist in the face with the stock of his M-16, a spray pattern of blood hitting the adjacent wall. The hunter yelped and stumbled, trying to shake off the stars. While Bill would have normally filled the stunned hunter full of lead, his rage at seeing his lover nearly raped demanded he bludgeon her attacker to death. However the hunter was fast, ducking Bill's next swing and swiping the war vet near the legs, causing his to yell in pain and stagger back.

The witch stared in shock as she sat up, relieved that her lover had followed her, but surprised he was risking his life to rescue her. She snarled as she got to her feet, enraged that this _thing_ had tried to violate her and now was threatening her companion.

The hunter screeched and leapt again, pouncing on the war veteran and knocking his rifle from his hand as he prepared to slash Bill's throat. The witch screamed, ready to remove the hunter's head from his shoulders, but she wouldn't close the distance in time...

An explosive sound seemed to come from nowhere, and the hunter toppled over dead, half of his head splattered on the walls. Francis, Zoey and Louis had finally caught up, just in the nick of time. Louis and Zoey slammed and barred the door then unloaded their weapons on the mob trying to claw their way in.

"You ok Bill?" Francis helped Bill to his feet, checking for any serious injury. "That hunter was about to..." But a strange crackling sound from the table nearby interrupted the biker's question.

"Ah shit!" Francis swore as he looked over Bill's shoulder. "I shot the damn radio!"

Bill looked over at the buckshot riddled radio on the table as the other three survivors huddled around the communication device. The metal casing was damaged, but it didn't look too severe. It might be fixable.

"That wasn't necessary Francis, but… tha-." Bill's gratitude was cut off when his very relieved witch cried out happily and threw herself at him, hugging him tightly. Francis chuckled as the witch kissed the blushing war vet repeatedly.

"Heck I owed you for trying to cr0wn your 'girlfriend' yesterday," he said nodding towards the witch who was cooing and nuzzling Bill's neck, overjoyed he was all right. She broke her affectionate nuzzling at the sound of her lover's savior, looking at biker with a huge smile. Her lover risked his life to save her, and this man had saved his. The witch thanked Francis, surprising him with a kiss on the lips.

Francis stood there, stunned. It was as though someone had just yanked his pants down in front of a crowd of people. Zoey giggled at his shocked "O" face, until she noticed the witch's attention shifting to the kitchen area with an intent stare. The petite college girl slipped into the kitchen to investigate.

"Umm… wow." Francis said a little flustered. Her lips were soft, and oh so sweet. In fact they tasted like…

"Honey." Zoey said, coming out of the kitchen with a half-empty jar of the stuff. "Apparently your movie date has a sweet tooth," Zoey said with a giggle as the witch immediately perked at the sight of the sugary substance. But as she reached for the jar, she winced from the pain her fresh wounds.

"Guys, she's hurt." Zoey said concerned. The poor witch still looked a little shaken from the ordeal. She had claw cuts near her shoulders, arms, and above her breasts. Her legs were covered in abrasions and debris from the scuffle she'd had with the hunter. The injuries didn't look too severe, but there was no sense taking chances.

"I'm going to get her cleaned up and patched up. There must be a bathroom somewhere on the second floor." Zoey said, taking the witch by one hand and leading her towards the stairs. But the witch held her ground, not wanting to leave Bill's side. Still, Zoey noticed the witch was also staring rather intently at the open jar, even while she held onto her man. Zoey used the jar to bait her, getting her to release her hug on the war veteran and follow her.

"No problem. We'll try and get this radio working again," Louis said as he started to remove the black metal casing, happy to be able to work on something electronic. Francis dragged the hunter's lifeless body towards the steel door, quickly opening it and tossing the freak out before slamming the door shut again. Bill and the witch locked eyes for a moment as Zoey led her up the stairs. The gray woman stared at him with amber puppy dog eyes as she reluctantly followed the college girl to the second floor.

"Bill, bring your flashlight over here," Louis said, snapping the war vet out of his almost vacant stare. He cleared his throat, shining his light on the damaged radio as Louis concentrated on repairing their one chance at salvation…

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Zoey and the witch found the master bedroom upstairs, with a huge California king-sized bed and a full adjacent bathroom. Zoey placed the jar of honey on a nearby nightstand. The last thing she needed was for the witch to be distracted while she healed her. The survivor removed what little tattered clothing remained on her charge, examining the wounds. She was relieved to find a lot of her injuries weren't as serious as they appeared. The witch's strong skin was able to repel what would've been a much more grievous injury to one of the "immunes."

Zoey found a fresh bar of soap and some towels in the linen closet. She flicked the light switch on in the bathroom, unsurprised when the lights remained off. "This is going to be difficult without light. It's not like I can open the windows or…"

But her remark was cut off as the numerous lights suddenly flickered on.

"Oh. I guess the guys found a generator or something," Zoey said to herself. The bathroom was quite spacious, with two full counter-top style sinks, a tub, and an oversized shower. She turned on the shower, happy to find that the heating for this place was gas controlled and not subject to a loss of electricity. Within minutes the shower was hot and beginning to steam. "Ok, time to get in," she said to the nervous gray woman. The witch looked at the shower apprehensively, not fully understanding what the college girl wanted. Zoey gently tugged her wrist, trying to lead her in, but the witch wouldn't budge.

"It's just water," Zoey said, though the witch didn't react. Zoey began to undress, figuring maybe the witch would comply if she got in first. She tossed her clothes into a pile on the floor and stepped in. A hot shower sounded wonderful, and even if she couldn't get the witch clean she could at least wash the blood and sweat from herself. She sighed happily, the hot water feeling very soothing against her skin.

The witch noticed her new friend's apparent mood change and decided to try it as well. As she stepped in, the hot water struck her gray skin, making her tingle all over. The shower was rather pleasant, especially as it rinsed away the dried blood and dirt.

Zoey lathered up the bar of soap. "I doubt you can do this yourself with those claws," she said as she carefully held the witch's claws in her hands, cleaning them. The witch stood quietly, staring in fascination as the female tended to her, washing her claws and arms. Her tender attention reminded the witch of her strong, gray-eyed lover. Were all of these humans as wonderful as him? She thought briefly of how the other male had rushed in and saved her lover's life. All four of them had pursued her when they realized she was missing. Was she a part of this group now?

Zoey moved behind the witch to scrub her back, scratching a little with her nails to loosen the dirt. The witch murmured quietly in appreciation. As she finished scrubbing her back, legs and rear, Zoey decided to stay behind the witch and reach around when washing her front, since the witch was enjoying the shower so much. She realized she would have to stand nearly on her tiptoes to reach over the witch's shoulders to scrub her upper chest, as the gray woman was a good few inches taller than the college student. Instead, she slid her hands under the witch's arms to scrub her upper chest and bosom.

The witch trembled, goosebumps raising on her skin at the tender touch on her breasts. And when those hands brushed over her nipples, the witch couldn't help the moan that escaped her lips.

Zoey froze at causing the witch's accidental stimulation. The witch slowly brought one of her hands to Zoey's, cupping it and rubbing in slow circles over her breast. She closed her eyes, thinking of her lover downstairs and remembering his roving hands all over her body. She wanted to be touched by him so badly, but the female's touch was still very pleasant.

The college girl's face flushed as she reflexively pressed herself against the witch's soft gray back. Her pink nipples hardened, pushing into the witch's back like two fleshy pebbles. Zoey's heart thudded in her chest. She'd experimented a little in college, and while she preferred the dominance of a kind yet aggressive man, there were times she enjoyed the tender love of another woman. Although this witch was clearly infatuated with Bill, she didn't seem to mind the college girl's amorous washing. Zoey felt a hint of guilt, since it was obvious how much Bill cared for his new companion.

"_Well… I did say I wanted to share everything, and sharing goes both ways."_ Zoey thought to herself, trying to justify away the guilt. She slowly slid her hand down the witch's firm gray tummy, listening for any change in her demeanor. Her fingers approached the white garden between the gray thighs, drawing a sultry moan from the witch that Zoey could feel vibrate against her chest. A shiver of excitement ran through both women as Zoey pressed her muff against the witch's supple rear, rubbing her more playfully. The witch groaned, beginning to feel weak in the knees from all this attention.

Zoey panted as the tingle between her legs grew into an outright horny itch. She stood on her tip toes to gently brush the witch's white hair aside and bite at her neck, the soap slipping from her hand. She breathed hotly on the witch's ear, her left hand pressing two fingers inside her gray lover as her right hand rubbed and brushed the witch's hardened nipples. The witch was moaning louder, her mind torn between imagining her man standing behind her pleasing her, and the reality that the woman in his place was making her just as wet.

With a soft cry the witch turned around suddenly, surprising the college girl with a deep kiss, tilting her lover's chin up to meet her gray lips. The two women kissed under the cascade of hot water, grinding their bodies together as they gave into their passion. Zoey broke the kiss with a wry smile, holding the witch's claw and bringing it to her own mound. She guided the witch's fingers over her auburn patch, pressing with the base of the witch's claw so she wouldn't get scratched. At the same time, Zoey brought her free hand back to the witch's winter garden, lightly rubbing two fingers across the apex, causing the witch to breathe raggedly. The witch began rubbing Zoey on her own, leaning in to kiss her once more.

Zoey murmured as their tongues danced, her mind racing as fast as her heart. _"If anyone ever told me I'd be 'hoping the fence' with a witch..." _she thought to herself while the witch continued sucking at her tongue. Zoey's aggressive side came forth as she slowly backed her gray lover against the shower wall, rubbing her faster. The witch mirrored her ministrations, both of them trembling. Zoey knew she could finish like this, but she wanted this "hot shower" to last. She kneeled in front of the voluptuous, golden eyed woman, kissing down her smooth gray tummy then looking up with a rather coy smile. The witch had a flash of memory, recalling when her man licked her in the same place just after he spanked her. Zoey breathed hotly on the white mound then gently jabbed with the tip of her tongue, deliberately teasing her. The witch growled down at her in frustration, but Zoey wasn't fazed. She was going to give her something to cry about.

After a few more very light, delicate licks, Zoey suddenly pressed her face between the witch's legs, stabbing her tongue deep inside, then licking around the moist opening, tasting her lover's excitement. The witch shuddered and cried loudly as she brought her claws to the female's head, nudging her closer as she continued her oral act. Zoey reached up to toy with her breasts, the witch's breathing heavily as Zoey squeezed her large gray globes. Within minutes, gray woman's ragged breathing broke into a sobbing shriek as her first orgasm exploded into the college girl's eager mouth. Zoey groaned happily, catching as much of the white nectar as she could. Her legs were shaking nearly uncontrollably as she leaned on the shoulders of her lover, who was still lapping up every bit.

The witch stared down in awe as the water cascaded over her curves, the droplets falling onto her lover's face. Zoey giggled at the witch's pleasured shock, carefully reaching up and removing her claws from her head as she pulled back. Her face was covered in the witch's essence, which she licked from her lips as the gray goddess gently stroked her face in disbelief. She thought only her gray eyed lover from yesterday could make her feel this good.

Zoey stood and turned off the shower, leading her awestruck companion out. She grabbed a towel and hastily dried the witch, then herself. As the naked pair approached the bed, Zoey noticed the honey she'd placed on the nightstand.

She grinned mischievously, an idea forming.

Zoey dipped her index and middle fingers into the honey, drawing out a generous portion as a string of the gooey liquid ran between her finger tips and the lip of the jar. The witch leaned forward, her tongue half out of her mouth as Zoey held out her fingers. At the last minute she pulled her fingers away, causing the witch to pout. She giggled as she rubbed the honey all over her pink nipples, seductively licking her fingers clean when she finished. The witch wasted no time nearly devouring Zoey's perky breasts in her mouth, sucking every bit of honey from them. Zoey bit her lip and whimpered, running her hands through her lover's soft white hair. Zoey slowly laid down on the large bed, folding her hands around the witch's back as she followed. The witch crawled next to her and continued to suckle eagerly on the college girl's breasts, despite being honey-free by now.

Zoey felt light headed as she dipped her fingers into the jar again, bringing her soaked fingers to the witch's nose. The white-haired woman gently pulled at Zoey's nipple as she moved away, her amber eyes locking onto the golden syrup as she licked her lips hungrily.

"Nuh uh," Zoey grinned, teasingly, holding the witch's head back with her free hand as she put the jar back on the nightstand. The witch pouted again, wondering why she kept stopping her. Zoey slipped her fingers down between her legs, the honey dribbling off and leaving a sticky trail down her tummy. Zoey moaned sultrily as she played with herself, matting her auburn hair over her mound with her sticky fingers. The honey itched a little, but Zoey knew that would make the witch's tongue feel that much more incredible when she licked it off.

The voluptuous gray woman realized why her lover kept smearing the honey on herself instead of feeding her. She simply wanted her to reciprocate, just like the witch had wanted her soldier to kiss her back when she'd pounced on him. She remembered how happy she felt when he finally did show his affection in return, and how the events took an exciting turn afterward. The female laying before her had made her feel so wonderful.

It was time to return the favor.

The witch's golden eyes and the survivor's deep blues locked in understanding. The witch grinned, slowly kissing her way down Zoey's stomach, her tongue tenderly lapping up the stray droplets of honey before pausing over her mound. Zoey whimpered as the witch hesitated, lightly touching with the tip of her tongue, deliberately teasing her.

"_She's a fast learner,"_ Zoey thought as the witch delicately cleaned her, licking up the larger globs of honey from around her opening. Zoey gripped the bed sheets, trying to stop herself from pressing the witch's face into her mound which felt like it was on fire between the honey and her own arousal. The witch suddenly sealed her mouth against the college girl's auburn crowned glory to suck at the inside, licking up the sweet mixture of honey and her lover's nectar. The gray beauty stabbed her tongue deep within the pink folds, flickering and licking in the same fashion as had been done to her. She wanted her new lover to feel the same burning desire she did when she was licked into a frenzy.

Zoey arched her back and cried out as the witch slipped her claws under her rear, squeezing the soft cheeks with her palms and pressing her face between Zoey's thighs, stabbing her tongue into the hot recesses of her lover. Zoey's hard panting turned to rhythmic cries at this onslaught of sexual affection. Her right hand found her breast, pinching and pulling at her nipple, while her left hand covered her eyes. She actually felt a little embarrassed that she was so hot and bothered. She was bucking her hips into the witch's face like a shameless bitch in heat, and she knew she wasn't going to last long. The gray woman felt the tingle between her own legs heating up and she was certain her petite lover was feeling the same if not more so. She licked faster, moaning into her lover's wet mound as her pert nose brushed the auburn hair. As her body peaked, Zoey screamed with utter joy.

"Yes! Yes!" Zoey cried, clenching her eyes shut and grabbing at her lover's shining white hair as the wave of her first orgasm crashed against the witch's face, drenching her visage in Zoey's essence. The witch purred like a lioness in heat, her own carnal feelings in sync with the panting survivor who was writhing beneath her. Licking her lips, she slowly crawled up and onto the shaking college student, her large breasts brushing across Zoey's chest. The college girl gasped as the witch aggressively kissed her, orally sharing the orgasm. Zoey tasted herself on the witch's lips, and that of itself made her head swim. The witch felt herself dripping down her thighs as her lover moaned into her mouth.

They were completely unaware of their audience.

A/N: Should I turn up the heat? Who's still feeling cold? Review and tell me!


	3. Our Other Feature Presentation

_**Legal Disclaimer: All characters and zombie plot are property of Valve. However I own the perverse sub-plot that makes up this story, and one of Satan's dark succubi likely is wearing my balls for earrings for me writing something so dirty.**_

_Mature Content Warning: This story contains sexual themes and should not be read by those under 18. Frankly I doubt anyone under 18 would be able to read this without making strange faces or giggling to themselves._

Author's Notes: I have to confess, I had originally planned on this being a relatively short continuation of Movie Night, but I wanted to try and incorporate a lot of requests and suggestions from reviewers in both stories. Personally I don't like PWP (Porn Without Plot, thank you Solid Spike for that Acronym), so in order to accommodate the more interesting requests, this is becoming a story all it's own.

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Chapter 3: Our Other Feature Presentation

Bill wiped his uncovered forehead with half of his ripped shirt, his black beret resting next to the radio. He and Francis had been holding their flashlights steady for quite a while as Louis worked with the soldering iron, carefully repairing the damaged components. At first the systems analyst thought they were sunk, as there was little he could do to repair the radio without the proper tools. Luckily when they scanned the large house for supplies earlier, they'd found a full hobbyist's tool set in the basement, along with a working gasoline generator. The "home away from home" was fully equipped for any sort of emergency, and fortunately the gasoline generator was one of the newer quiet types. There'd be no worries about noise attracting more infected.

"So what's the diagnosis, 'doctor'?" Francis asked in half mocking tone.

"The diagnosis is we have a working radio, but it will take some time before we can send a transmission." Louis said, admiring his handiwork. "The soldering iron wasn't the right size for this kind of work."

"And that means…?" Bill asked.

"It means that other components around the damaged ones were heated up by the iron because of its size," Louis said. "Those components need to cool before we turn it on again. It shouldn't be long. I'd give it an hour or two."

"How are we gonna kill an hour or…?" Francis started to ask, before his monologue was cut off by a muffled cry from the ceiling.

"The cry from upstairs sounded like Zoey..." Louis started.

Bill nodded, "But she didn't sound distressed…"

The three survivor's eyes went wide as dinner plates.

"Uh... you don't think…?" Francis started, a big grin on his face as his dirty imagination began painting a scene in his head.

Bill shook his head in disbelief. "After what she tried this morning…"

"Yeah what was up with that anyway?" Francis asked. "I didn't realize she was into robbing the grave." He finished with a chuckle as Bill glared at him. "I'm kiddin' old man." Francis followed up quickly, his hands up in a defensive posture. "Maybe she wanted to know what kinda "pistol" you're packin'. You definitely gave that witch something to 'cry' about… right, Louis?" He said, looking to the systems analyst for support.

Louis didn't answer. He was already creeping up the stairs, his rifle in his hands just in case. Bill and Francis followed, trying to keep silent. As they rounded the corner to the master bedroom, their jaws hit the floor.

The three men got an eyeful of a two very beautiful women in the throes of passion. Zoey's hand covered her eyes and she was crying out as Bill's lover licked her relentlessly, her smoot, heart-shaped, gray ass wiggling suggestively. The two women were completely oblivious to the new company.

"You know," Francis whispered to no one in particular. "I… _don't_ hate this."

Louis nodded silently as he wiped some drool from his lips, his pants suddenly chaffing him something awful.

Bill was stunned. Part of him was flabbergasted that Zoey and his witchy lover could change gears like this, but another part of him found it to be quite a turn on. Though he wasn't into the whole lesbian thing, knowing that the two women pleasuring each other also wanted him gave him mixed feelings about the display.

He didn't have time to ponder on it. Zoey cried out loudly, announcing her orgasm as she climaxed all over the witch's face. The three men stared stunned as the college girl convulsed and the witch eagerly lapped everything up, purring contentedly. Zoey was shaking from the aftermath and the witch was climbing onto her, the college girl's essence glistening on her lips. Zoey's ragged breathing turned to a gasp as the witch kissed her deeply. The college girl whimpered into her lover's mouth as their tongues shared the liquid passion.

"Mother of mercy…" Bill stammered, feeling his pants about to burst.

The two women broke the kiss and turned in surprise, a thin dribble of Zoey's liquid heat running between both their lips. The three men were gawking at them with a lustful, hungry gaze. The witch eyed her lover in the center of the group, paying particular notice to the large bulge in his pants. Zoey had also noticed that their little display had turned on the war vet, and she wasn't about to let the opportunity go to waste. She still wanted him from earlier, and if she played things right, she knew she would have him.

The witch was drawn to her lover's arousal as though she could smell him right through his pants. She began crawling towards Bill at the edge of the large bed, her glowing eyes locked onto the stunned veteran. Zoey knelt next to the witch, reaching around her midsection and tenderly grabbing her breasts, holding her back while pinching her teasingly. The witch groaned as Zoey teased her, though her golden eyes were still locked onto Bill.

"You know, you three could stand there and watch, or you could join us," Zoey purred, gently pulling the witch off her hands and knees and backward into her lap. The busty beauty whimpered, one claw outstretched towards Bill, staring at him as Zoey nibbled her ear and squeezed her large breasts. She couldn't take much more of this teasing. She wanted him, and she wanted him _now._

Bill was stun-locked, gawking at the pair, until he heard the clatter of guns hitting the floor and the rustling of clothes being hastily removed. Louis and Francis were already stripping, more than eager to assist the two women. But for Bill, the idea of an orgy was simply too much.

"I… I can't…" The war vet said quietly as he turned for the door.

The witch felt cold all over, as if an icy dagger had been driven through her heart. She missed him so much. She longed to feel the kindness in his firm touch, to feel him inside her again. She wanted everything that happened last night to happen again ten-fold. And most of all, she wanted to see the same look in his eyes she saw last night when they fell asleep together.

For the first time since she'd met the survivors, the witch began to cry.

Bill froze, the sound of the witch's trademark sobs halting him dead in his tracks. He turned, seeing his witchy lover's golden eyes piercing his with a heartbroken expression, just like last night when all she wanted was his mutual affection. She hugged Zoey, feeling confused and hurt that her gray-eyed lover had turned his back on them. Zoey stared at him with remorse in her eyes as she cuddled the witch, her own baby blues beginning to well up with tears.

"Bill," Zoey said softly, "I'm sorry if I crossed the line with her, but please don't leave. Don't be upset with us… especially not with her."

"You didn't cross any line…" he said gruffly, wondering if he even believed himself. "I'm not upset with you, or her. This is just… a bit more than I can handle."

"Hey, I'm not looking forward to seeing you naked, but lord knows I won't be paying attention to you." Francis said to the war vet as he knelt next to Zoey, affectionately rubbing her shoulder.

"Ditto that on both you guys," Louis said as he gently touched the witch's shoulder reassuringly, getting an up-close eyeful of her curves. It was easy to see how Bill could be so taken by her. Even with her viral transformation, she was gorgeous.

"I want to share _everything_, with _all_ of you," Zoey said, making a point to look at the three men as well as the witch next to her. "Share," she repeated to the sniffling gray woman, looking at her then at Bill then back at her again.

The witch looked at Bill, then Zoey, then back at Bill in understanding. She released the petite college girl from her embrace and crawled off the bed, standing in front of her handsome soldier, who felt terrible seeing her tear streaked face and her pleading glowing eyes. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders the way a couple in love would slow dance. She held him tightly, as though she'd lose him if she ever let go. Her lips trembled, and the war vet thought his witch might start sobbing even harder, until…

"Sssshh… sshhhaaaaarrreeee…"

The four survivors stared wide-eyed; this was the first time the witch ever attempted to speak. None of them imagined she could be capable of vocal communication. Then again, there were a number of things she'd done that none of them would have thought possible. The witch had progressed quite a bit cognitively ever since meeting the four survivors.

Her unique behaviors aside, Bill couldn't deny she was special because of her particular affection towards him. However, he didn't understand how she could be just as affectionate with Zoey, and potentially just as much with Francis or Louis, given the chance. Perhaps being alone made her crave companionship from anyone, and he was simply lucky to be the first? Maybe he was jealous because he'd thought her affections to belong only to himself.

Bill felt her tender touch on his face as she smiled timidly at him, much like the first time they'd met. The war vet tried to see the situation from a different angle: Though the witch was not monogamous, it was undeniable that he was very special to her. He remembered the way she hugged and kissed him for bravely going hand to hand with the hunter. The war vet also noticed the witch made a bee line for him the instant she was "caught" in the act, and how Zoey had to nearly hold her back on the bed. And of course, the fact that she was heartbroken when he was about to leave.

The gray-eyed war veteran sighed. He could try and justify that he was "top dog" all he wanted, but the truth was he would have to stop being territorial if he wanted to make everyone happy. Like Zoey had said, she wanted all of them to share in everything. He would be denying both Zoey and his gray faced lover if he left now. They really were about as close as any group of people could get, so why not take the final step? Hell, if Francis and Louis could share, it couldn't be that difficult. Zoey could share… his witchy woman could share…

Bill gently touched his lover's face, wiping one of her tears away with his thumb.

He _would_ share.

The witch noticed her lover's change in demeanor, smiling as one last tear ran down her face. She kissed him tenderly, sucking his tongue into her mouth. Bill slid his hands around her back, gently rubbing up and down her spine in the same soothing fashion as he'd done before. She sighed happily as her claws found their way into his ripped shirt, tugging it from his shoulders. She reached for his pants next, but Bill was ahead of her. He shuffled them to his ankles himself, preferring to keep his pants from looking like his torn shirt.

As the witch helped Bill remove the rest of his clothes, Zoey had some ideas of her own. She wanted the war vet, but she wasn't about to leave Louis and Francis out in the cold. The two men were flanking her from behind, kissing her and pawing at her naked form. Zoey tipped the jar of honey, pouring a good sized glob onto her palms and lathering her hands. She grabbed both men, sliding her hands up and down their lengths as they both shuddered in excitement.

Francis couldn't believe he was getting a hand job with honey and loving every moment of it. _"Damn, Zoey's creative. I can't wait to see her lick it off," _he thought devilishly. Louis savored the "honey-coated hand rub" too, but his curiosity kept his attention on the witch, wondering what she would do first.

The gray goddess turned Bill around as they kissed, backing him towards the bed until he sat down. She laid her man onto the mattress, purring and rubbing her palms over his firm, exposed chest, his rock hard manhood gently grazing her tummy. Wanting to repeat the events from the night before, the gray beauty sat up and straddled her lover's chest. Her lover gently squeezed her supple cheeks as she settled on his face. And as his tongue lapped across her opening, she shut her eyes and moaned, giving in to the wave of pleasure that assaulted her body.

Zoey chuckled and brought her fingers to the witch, her golden eyes popping open at the smell of the honey. She leaned forward to clean Zoey's fingers, but the college girl instead brought Francis' honey-coated manhood to her mouth instead. She paused, watching as Zoey moved to crouch next to her. Zoey tenderly lapped at Louis' manhood, causing the systems analyst to groan.

"Ohhh… Zoey. Girl, you never stop surprising me," Louis moaned as he tilted his head back. It was all so intense, but he loved seeing the look on her face when she pleasured him orally. He glanced down, eager to brush the amber locks from her cheeks…

Only to find that Zoey was now sucking on Francis. Louis was pleasantly surprised to find the witch was following her lead, licking and sucking the honey from his member while looking up at him, her questioning amber eyes seeking approval. Louis brushed her white hair from her cheeks, smiling at her reassuringly.

Francis groaned as Zoey pleasured him, the college student giggling at she watched Louis' pleasantly surprised expression. The witch gasped and sucked at Louis harder as Bill's actions below had an effect on her. Zoey smiled, leading Francis to the witch, encouraging her to continue her oral ministrations by smearing more honey onto both Francis' and Louis' throbbing manhood.

"Don't worry guys, I think she can handle the two of you." Zoey whispered sultrily to her men as their honey-loving companion continued to eagerly switch back and forth cleaning them. Zoey crouched near the witch's waist, gently licking her proverbial bikini line down to the top of her white garden, before locking eyes with Bill.

"I wanted you last night," she whispered as she stared into his steel gray eyes. "I wanted you this morning," She purred, moving to gently kiss him on the forehead. "And now," she said with affection and determination, "I _will _have you."

Zoey moved away, sliding to the bottom of the bed to get a better look at what her comrade was packing. "_Christ, maybe I should start calling him Big Boy Billy," _she thought as she held in a gasp. It was no wonder the witch had her eyes shut when she rode him; she probably felt that monster all the way up to her womb. Though she was already so wet, Zoey knew she'd still need to get Bill's "gun" lubed first. Zoey ran her tongue up and down his length, pausing to flicker the tip. Bill shuddered, his shiver of passion passing through to the witch, who in turn moaned as she pleasured Francis and Louis. Zoey opened wide, breathing hotly on him before engulfing most of his upper half. She sucked him with vigor, running her hand up and down what she couldn't take in herself. Within minutes he was so hard she could feel his heartbeat throbbing in her mouth.

It was time.

Bill was becoming light headed from all the stimulation. Between Zoey sucking him like a pro and him tasting his witchy woman's essence, he was losing himself in his lust. Suddenly he felt cold air brush over his manhood as Zoey halted her oral assault. What was she…?

Zoey squatted over Bill's hardness, taking a couple deep breaths, her "lips" kissing his tip. This was probably going to hurt a bit at first, but she knew it'd be worth it. Better to take this bad boy in one shot…

Zoey dropped herself onto him, gritting her teeth as he penetrated her, trying desperately not to scream. About half-way down she simply could not keep silent. The cry that escaped her lips was akin to a bomb siren as she felt split apart. Her mixed cry of pain and passion turned to a drawn out hiss as she attempted to take every bit of Bill's "war sword" into her "sleeve."

Bill groaned into the witch's garden as Zoey's tight warmth surrounded him. He squeezed the top of her gray thighs, keeping her muff mounted on his face as Zoey began screwing him with everything she had. She was a lot tighter than his witchy lover, but she was only able to go about 4/5ths the way down. None the less, her enthusiasm was just as great if not more so.

The other two survivors watched over the witch's head as Zoey impaled herself on Bill. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head as she cried out, relentlessly slamming herself onto him. The biker hated to admit it, but he understood completely how that witch could be so infatuated with Bill; the old man was screwing Zoey with a god damn telephone pole and he was now matching the horny girl's every motion, bucking his hips upward. Francis' thoughts were interrupted as the witch nearly bottomed out on him, trying to suck the honey near his base. He groaned, running his fingers through the witch's soft hair. Meanwhile, Louis tenderly squeezed the witch's breasts, pulling at her nipples as he stared at Zoey, awestruck as well at her very enthusiastic bouncing. The college girl pulled and tweaked her own nipples as her hair flopped about her shoulders. The systems analyst was impressed that the old vet was holding up so well.

Zoey moaned loudly again as her body adjusted to the huge member. She'd finally managed to bottom out, and the sensation was an indescribable combination of pleasure and pain. She couldn't think straight, the sheer sexual pleasure overpowering everything else. The only thought Zoey had was that she didn't want this to stop.

Bill had lost himself in the lust of the two women atop him. Zoey was so tight, he was surprised he hadn't blasted her right off his lap in the first few minutes. Between hearing her cries that sounded like pain and pleasure blended together, and the sultry moans of his gray skinned lover bucking her hips into his face, Bill knew he'd be lucky to last even a few moments longer. It was all so intense, and while it was nothing he ever expected to take part of in his entire life, he had no regrets. He thrust into Zoey faster, swearing he could feel her poor little tummy poking out from his bucking. Meanwhile his lips found the love button of his gray goddess, which he eagerly sucked between his teeth. Her white garden meshed and entangled in his beard as she pressed herself onto him.

The witch gyrated her hips on her lover's face, her passion ready to explode. Feeling her male lover lick and suck at her opening harder with every cry that her female lover let out as she bounced on him, made the witch suck and lick at the two men before her with that much more zeal. All of them were approaching the edge together; it was simply a matter of who would "leap" first.

"Yes! God! Yes! I'm coming!" Zoey screamed as she was the first to climax, her muscles clenching around Bill's erupting volcano as she soaked his crotch. She leaned forward, holding onto the witch's shoulders as she came, biting her neck with passion. The war vet shuddered as he exploded inside the college girl, thrusting his tongue and sucking on his witchy lover even harder as he came, bringing her over the edge. The witch cried out as her orgasm arrived, grabbing the buns of the men in front of her as she sucked them both at once, her claws poking into their skin. Francis and Louis didn't even notice. Zoey's orgasmic climax along with the witch's eager sucking had both of them about to burst. Louis groaned, filling the witch with his passion. Francis quickly pulled out and blasted the college girl's face with his orgasm. Both women moaned appreciatively, Zoey rubbing the biker's liquid heat into her cheeks, sucking the larger globs off her fingers, while the witch savored the taste of the dark man along with the residue of honey that had coated her mouth.

All of them were sweating and gasping as they slowly broke apart. Zoey was panting hard as she felt Bill slip from her. Even though she felt like she'd been fucked by a train, she was still so horny. The witch was trembling as she moved off Bill's face, plopping next to him and staring with a renewed lust, her eyes lingering to Bill's still pulsating hard on. Bill was gasping for breath himself. Hell, he hadn't seen as much sheet rustling action in this one night then he had in his entire life. Francis couldn't believe a witch had just given him the most intense blow job of his life, and Louis couldn't believe that a witch could look so innocent yet so hot sucking him off. Louis' cock twitched as he stared at the witch, some of his essence dribbling from her lip. He couldn't believe it, but he was hard again. Francis was staring at Zoey, who looked like a royally screwed prom date. Her hair was matted in her face, half of the pony tail having come undone. Something about Zoey's "well fucked" look got his fire burning, making his lower half point directly at the sweaty college girl.

The five sat on the large bed, panting and gasping, staring at each other. Even with such an incredible shared orgasm, the second wind was already blowing in the group's direction.

"Ag… Again?" Zoey panted, half hopeful, half out of her mind.

Everyone, including the witch, nodded.

This wasn't over. Oh no… not by a long shot.

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A/N: C'mon, tell me what you think. Anonymous reviews are enabled.


	4. Matinee

_**Legal Disclaimer: All characters are property of Valve, with the exception of one which will be named later. The main zombie apocalypse is also Valve's property, but this sub plot is mine. Do NOT plagiarize, or the harem of dark succubi sitting with me will hunt you down and attach jumper cables to your genitalia to jump start the trolley cars!**_

_Mature Content Warning: Said it before, saying it again. You will read about men and women bumping uglies in a very "not ugly" manner. If you don't know what "bumping uglies" means, you're either too young or too sheltered to be reading this, so go on… shoo! Shoo!_

_A/N: Holy hell! I'm loving the reviews! I've replied to every one (except the anonymous, since there's no way to reply without an e-mail address, which FF blocks unless you put spaces between the dots and symbols, hint hint). As I said before, I never expected this to go as long as it has, but if you guys and gals love it this much, it shall go on! Seeing as how I'm incorporating a lot of requests given to me from Movie Night reviews, I'm open to suggestions and ideas on how to continue, and possibly finish, this story. Don't hold back with those reviews folks!_

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Chapter 4

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The four survivors sat haphazardly on the large bed, all of them processing what had just happened and what to do next. The witch, however, knew exactly what she wanted, purring as she stared at her lover's "soldier" still standing tall. She'd wanted him ever since the night before, but first she was going to share what her female lover had just taught her. She crawled onto the gasping war vet and began kissing down his stomach, tracing one of her claws down the front of his chest, lightly scratching down towards his "happy trail." She lingered over his manhood, breathing hotly and licking with the tip of her tongue, teasing him until a low growl escaped his lips. Looking up at him, she began to engulf his head, ever so slowly making her way down as she sucked him into her pouting gray lips. Her lover groaned, running his fingers through her soft white locks as she pleased him. She bobbed up and down on him, her eyes locking onto his as the other three survivors watched.

Bill half-sat up, wiping a little sweat from his brow as the witch teased him. His vision was getting spotty, the exhaustion of combat and wild sex taking their toll on his aged body. As much as he wanted this, as much as he wanted _her_, the entire ordeal was both physically and mentally draining. His mind, much to his body's dismay, was once again trying to process everything that had transpired since the outbreak. He'd witnessed the entire world be consumed by the mutated rabies virus, and nearly 99% of the earth's population dead set on sending him home in a box. Fortunately he'd grouped up with a small portion of the 1% that still retained their humanity. Unfortunately the only things they had in common with the old vet was that they too were immune and they wanted to live. Aside from that, the four immune people couldn't have been more different. Mere survival was the only "glue" that kept them together. All of them were simply relying on each other until what they all hoped would be an eventual rescue, so they could return to their normal, separate lives.

And then they'd met a witch who had turned their entire world upside down. Between her very un-infected-like behavior and nearly insatiable desire for intimate contact, the witch had indirectly brought forth the reality which Bill and the other survivors, had tabled…

There was no going back to "normal."

From the aftermath of this nightmare, a new society would be born. Groups of people would come together not based on social classes, but forged out of necessity of circumstance or out of blind luck. The four survivors, now five, were no longer random people merely fighting for survival. They were among the few and fortunate who could rebuild the entire world. All they had now was each other, and whatever they made of their time together now was all that was certain in their lives.

Bill tilted his head back as the witch continued pleasuring him; he was feeling light-headed again. It was all too much. He didn't want to think about this right now, but physically he was worn out and his mind was very insistent.

Zoey giggled. Between the witch's enthusiasm and how quickly she picked up on things, poor Bill looked like he was going to be wrung out like a used washcloth before the day was over. The war vet's eyes were rolling into the back of his head from the witch's oral skills. The display was turning Zoey on something awful, especially knowing that the witch was acting not only on her own impulse, but also mimicking what the college girl had demonstrated with Francis and Louis.

The three survivors watched her take Bill into her mouth with such zeal, all of them smirking at the thought that the old war soldier was likely going to be sucked inside out. Zoey turned to Francis and Louis, smiling coyly.

"Why don't we take this somewhere else? I'm sure they'd like a little 'alone' time," Zoey whispered to Francis and Louis.

"Amen to the alone time." Francis agreed quietly. "Louis, why don't you go check on that radio, then make sure the generator has enough gasoline. After that, maybe mow the lawn, andOUCH!"

Louis chuckled as Zoey punched Francis in the shoulder. The trio began to make their way into the bathroom to give the war veteran and his gray goddess some one-on-one time, until they heard the sound of quiet whimpering coming from the bed.

The three turned around to see the witch pouting as she gently nudged her unconscious lover. Bill was laid out flat like he'd been slugged, his sleeping form completely unresponsive. His "soldier" was gradually moving to "at ease," his body completely exhausted.

"I'm sorry, I guess you and Zoey just wore him out, but he'll be awake again soon." Louis said apologetically as he walked back to the bed, gently touching the witch's shoulder. She turned to him, her expression a mixture of disappointment, concern, and very intense arousal. She stared intently at the systems analyst, biting her lower lip with one claw held over her heart. Louis immediately noticed her flushed cheeks and very erect dark gray nipples. The poor thing looked like she'd been given a female's equivalent of "blue balls."

The witch recalled how the dark man had pleased her female lover last night and his gentle encouragement towards her as she licked him clean. She wondered if he too could make her feel as wonderful as her gray-eyed lover. The witch slowly moved off the bed, taking care not to disturb her sleeping lover. She stood face to face with the dark man, who looked more than a little nervous.

"What's wrong Louis? Afraid she'll suck your blood?" Francis asked with a wry grin as Zoey nudged him in the ribs.

"You should talk biker boy," Louis quipped. "You didn't seem to mind her 'sucking' you earlier."

The gray beauty took Louis' hand in her claws and drew him closer.

Louis paused for a moment, then sighed, "It's just that…she's…"

"Special to Bill, and you want to tread carefully?" Zoey asked softly as she and Francis approached the pair. Louis nodded. "Personally I think she's finds all of us special in her own way, just like you guys are to me." Zoey said with a smile. "We share everything, right?" Zoey finished, looking at the aroused witch.

"Ssshhhhaarrreee.." the witch said with a little less difficulty that time, touching the dark man's cheek softly.

Louis slowly reached out to fondle her large breasts, tenderly pinching her nipples as his dexterous hands massaged her. Her skin was surprisingly soft, considering that every other witch he'd ever encountered must've had iron for skin. They could take enough bullets to bring down a bull elephant.

The witch moaned, stepping closer while gazing at him with a somewhat vacant stare. She was so wet from Bill's tongue teasing, and the dark man's rubbing was driving her crazy. The witch pushed his hands away, grinding her bare chest into his pecs and rubbing herself against his hardness, nibbling at his ear. Louis shivered with excitement; his manhood was wedged between their stomachs and was steadily growing upward. He grabbed her supple rear, squeezing the gray cheeks, pushing and grinding her onto him. She did the same, grabbing the cheeks of his butt with her palms, kneading at his flesh. He nibbled on her neck in return, each of them essentially mirroring the other's amorous actions.

Zoey turned to Francis with a naughty smile, beckoning him with one finger to follow her into the bathroom. The biker grinned and growled playfully, causing the nude college girl to squeal and run for the bathroom, Francis following in hot pursuit, shutting the bathroom door behind him.

The witch backed the dark man towards the wall next to the closed bathroom door with her insistent rubbing. Louis moved his hands from her rear, slipping one between their bodies to move his hardness from between their stomachs to between her legs. He began slowly pumping his hips, running his length between her thighs. The witch moaned as she stared at him lustily, feeling his hardness rubbing across her opening. Her breathing was becoming ragged as her essence coated Louis' manhood. She stood on her tip toes, adjusting herself so the next push would bring him inside of her, but Louis stopped her, a devilish smile on his face.

The witch recognized that smirk; she's seen the same on her female lover when she teased her. She tried again, but Louis snuck his hand between them and pressed his manhood downward, continuing to rub against her nether lips.

"Uh uh uuhhh…" Louis whispered in her ear, drawing out his teasing.

The witch growled in frustration, tired of waiting. She needed release and she needed it _now!_ Her amber eyes gleamed as she glared at the systems analyst with a look of aggravation and extreme arousal…

Meanwhile, Francis was pawing all over Zoey like a teenage boy after his first piece of ass. He'd picked up the horny college girl and sat her on one of the countertop sinks, sucking at her perky breasts while rubbing her sexual apex with two fingers. She gasped at his rough touch, the man-handling turning her on even more.

"C'mon biker, take me for a ride on your 'Harley'," Zoey purred while rubbing his shaved head. Francis chuckled, pulling at her nipple as he moved away from her tasty tits. He locked eyes with her, grabbing himself and rubbing his hardness over her drooling opening in an attempt to tease her. Within a minute, he couldn't wait any longer. He thrust deep into the college girl, both of them gasping. Francis began pounding her on the countertop, his thick fingers digging into Zoey's firm tush.

Zoey smirked over his shoulder at his rhythmic grunting, loving the way he would try and tease her, mainly because he was only teasing himself. She hooked her ankles behind his waist and dug her nails into his back as he pounded into her, wondering how Louis and the witch were faring…

On any other day Louis would've feared for his life, but he saw what happened when this witch tried getting aggressive with Bill. If the old soldier could handle her, then so could he. Louis leaned forward, kissing the witch hard on the mouth to distract her. Her growls, though muffled, didn't let up. It was clear she was getting frustrated, but Louis knew how to shut her up.

In one quick motion, he brought both his hands out and slap-grabbed her rear, tenderly squeezing her cheeks. The witch yelped as they kissed, surprised at the sudden sting on her butt. Louis broke the kiss and smiled at her slack-jawed stare.

"You like that don't you?" He asked, a growl in his voice. Her panting was answer enough to the bold systems analyst. Louis spanked her ass again and followed up with another squeeze, this time allowing his hand to linger, the edge of his index finger rubbing close to her entrance. She growled and bit her lip, the sting followed by such pleasure was throwing her off. Louis did this a couple times, each time leaving his hand to linger longer between her cheeks and thighs, his fingers gently caressing her moist opening. The witch tried to growl again but Louis cut her off.

"Don't 'talk' back to me." He said, getting into his aggressive role. The witch had been pretty even-tempered until now, but Louis couldn't blame her. He figured anyone would be sexually frustrated if they'd been strung along as much as she had been, especially when her lover passed out. Louis wasn't the type to enjoy making anyone suffer, but something about seeing her frustrated like this made his fire burn hotter. Though he was typically very kind and polite, he had a dark side which harbored his pent up aggression that required release. The pretty gray woman was docile, but it was clear she too had her dark and carnal side that craved release as well. He wanted that side to come out, but on his terms, and he knew with enough poking and prodding, it would.

The witch wrapped her arms around him, pulling him in tight and panting in his ear. This teasing was weakening her resolve, and she was behaving more submissively just to get some satisfaction.

Louis quickly switched their positions, turning the witch around and just about slamming her into the wall. He ran his hand under her left thigh, lifting her leg until her ankle resting on his shoulder. He moved into position, the head of himself just barely grazing her insides. She whimpered loudly, her amber eyes begging him to stop tormenting her.

"You want me?" He whispered, his lips mere millimeters away from her ear. She growled again, her claws digging into him. He hissed quietly as the sharp nails traced thin lines down his back. It hurt, but knowing _why_ she did it turned him on even more.

Louis slid in an inch, then paused. The witch held her breath, her face twisted in an exquisite contortion of tension and arousal.

"You want more?" He asked, nearly holding his own breath at the sensation of partially penetrating her.

She growled again, but Louis glared back at her, silencing her.

"Say it." He commanded. "More. Say you want _more_! More!" He repeated.

"MMmmrrgggghh….. mmooooorrrreee…." The witch stammered out in a half growl, her claws drawing a fine trickle of blood from Louis' back.

Louis slid in a little further, his gray lover gasping as he kissed her. He paused again, the same snarky expression on his face.

"Again," he said. "Say more. More!"

"Mooorreeee," She whispered, the word coming easier and sounding much more human.

Louis kissed her again, her single word turning to a muffled moan. He was only a little more than halfway in, but he wasn't done yet. He paused again, that same smile on his face. The witch grumbled angrily. This was going from frustrating to downright maddening.

"Again," he said with a smirk.

The witch growled louder instead, her golden eyes burning into him like fiery daggers. She had enough of these games.

"I guess I should stop then," He said quietly, faking disappointment and backing himself out slowly.

The witch's growl turned to a whine as her lover's thick satisfaction slid out. She tugged at his shoulders, trying to pull him back to her.

"Just kidding," He said with a grin. "Here, take it all!"

Louis suddenly thrust upward, burying himself in her all the way to the hilt. The witch yelled out in surprise; Louis half interrupting her cry with a kiss to ensure she wouldn't be heard. Their tongues battled for dominance as he filled her completely. She felt him pulsating within her, his member touching every crevice of her insides.

Louis pinned her against the wall, keeping himself inside but refusing to move just yet. He flexed his stomach muscles, causing his manhood to wiggle around within her. She sighed contently, her burning desire finally being satisfied, but when the kiss broke she saw the same smirk she was coming to hate. She tried pumping herself onto him, but the persistent dark man kept her pinned to the wall.

For the gray beauty, that was the last straw. She threw her arms around his shoulders, then jumped and wrapped her legs around Louis' waist, locking her ankles behind his derriere, trying to use her weight to bring him to the floor.

Louis was taken off guard, but the wall was able to help support his frustrated lover as he adjusted his stance to hold her. His lover's patience had reached its limit and as a result she was trying to bring him down with her own weight so she could ride him. He couldn't help but chuckle.

The witch grumbled; the dark man was stronger than he looked. Instead, she pulled him into her and bit at his shoulder, trying to release her frustration.

"_Time to make this witch cry,"_ Louis thought to himself with a sense of irony.

Louis slammed into the horny witch, both of them gasping as he bottomed out. His lover's white garden was soaked and matted with her own essence as he stirred her up from the inside, the squishing sounds of their coupling just audible above their rhythmic banging against the wall. She clutched him tighter, biting at his neck and mashing her large breasts against his chest. Her cry of passion was wavering with every hard thrust as he drove into her. She flexed her own muscles, causing her hot wet sleeve to tighten around the dark man's pole while she squeezed her legs around him to pull him in deeper, a wanton expression on her face.

Louis groaned as the witch milked his cock for everything it had; she was so damn tight. As much as he was enjoying fucking the witch hard against the wall, his arms were beginning to get sore. Not to mention Bill would be sure to wake up if they didn't take this somewhere else. His eyes wandered towards the bathroom…

Zoey was standing on the tile floor and leaning forward on the countertop with one arm as Francis took her from behind. The sweaty biker pounded her relentlessly from the rear, holding onto her long auburn hair like riding reigns. Zoey was fingering her love button with her free hand while listening to the witch's cries from the bedroom. She wished the two of them were in here, not only because Bill needed to rest, but she also wanted to see her witchy woman's expressions of ecstasy as she took Louis' hard screwing.

Francis and Zoey suddenly turned to the sound of a door flying open. Louis half stumbled in, the witch moaning as she clung to him. He was barely able to kick the door shut with one foot before placing his witchy lover on the counter top sink next to Zoey.

"Hey! This ain't no public restroom!" Francis said, pausing at the intruders, but the excited pair ignored him. The dark man picked up where he left off, screwing the wanton witch with reckless abandon, who continued crying out, her claws drawing blood from Louis' back. The witch clenched her eyes shut and gritted her teeth as her claws dug marks into Louis' back. The manly systems analyst didn't let up, though. He was drilling her like an oil rig would rip up the ground, and Zoey had to admit it was pretty hot. The witch was getting banged so hard, even _she_ felt it.

Zoey looked over her shoulder at the stunned biker. "You haven't taken me around the frickin' world yet, stud. We're only about halfway there, but if you're 'outta gas'…" she said with a taunting smile.

Francis chuckled. Though he wasn't the brightest bulb in the box, he knew exactly what Zoey's game was. She wanted to, quite literally, "fuck off." She was eager to see which of the two men could make their lover scream so loud a rescue chopper would hear it.

"Ride to live, and live to ride," Francis said as he resumed slamming into Zoey, her ass cheeks quivering as the Biker's hips slapped them with every thrust. Zoey moaned loudly, Francis' renewed enthusiasm causing the edge of the sink countertop to dig into her arm. She stopped rubbing herself, bringing both hands to grasp the countertop so she could brace herself against her lover's aggressive fucking. Zoey was panting like a marathon runner, her perky boobs shaking beneath her and her hair falling about her face as hung on for dear life.

Francis dug his fingers into Zoey's hips as she pushed back to meet his eager thrusts. Though he wasn't too keen about the extra company, it _was_ hot to see two women in the throws of passion, especially since the large wall mirror behind the sinks gave him an extra view. He could see the college girl's eyes clenched shut and her mouth agape as she took everything he had to give. He also noticed the witch had really nice ass. Her heart-shaped rear quivered and shifted on the countertop to Louis' rhythmic pounding. The dark man's fingers were spread over her cheeks, pulling her onto him as he banged her like a salvation army drum.

Zoey opened her eyes, watching Francis' face of concentration in the mirror. She then looked to her left at Louis and the witch, going at it like two porn stars. Louis had a stare of aggression and dominance she'd never seen before. The witch shut her eyes and grit her teeth as she drew her nails down his back. It looked painful for both of them, yet it looked like they were very much into it as well. Zoey moaned loudly and shut her eyes again as Francis pounded her harder.

"Look at me," he commanded. Zoey thought it was Francis at first, wanting to stare at her in the mirror, but the voice came from her left. She saw the witch panting, her mouth agape as the dark man commanded her. "You like it?" Louis asked in a heated breath. The witch simply moaned louder, her amber eyes and his chocolate brown eyes locking. "Tell me you want more. Say more!"

"Moorreee…" The witch moaned, before leaning back, her palms moving to his shoulders as Louis thrust into her. Her full, soft breasts were shaking, the erect dark gray nipples tracing circles in the air as the systems analyst slammed her even harder. Louis lifted both her legs up, bringing her ankles by his neck as he drilled into her. The witch cried out again, nearly leaning back completely on the sink countertop as her white hair just grazed the mirror behind her. Louis leaned forward, screwing her with everything he had.

Zoey was surprised to hear the witch speak again, but she was more interested in the fact that Louis was giving it to the witch hard, and she seemed to be enjoying every second of it. Beads of sweat ran down Louis' arms and over his contorted back as his muscles flexed with every motion. She looked back in the mirror at Francis, his tattoos glistening with sweat as he too gave into the passion.

"Moorreee," Zoey moaned, drawing out the word like her white-haired lover next to her. Zoey and the witch looked at each other, both being turned on by watching each being pleasured by their men. She felt Francis shiver in excitement, picking up the tempo. Louis nibbled at the witch's neck, whispering "more" over and over. The golden eyed goddess cried out, turning her attention back to the dark man, moaning "more" back at him with every hard thrust.

Zoey clenched around Francis, the display a few feet away bringing her to her peak. Francis, feeling her tighten up, pounded as fast as he could, the slapping of his pelvis against the college girl's ass in sync with her gasps. Within minutes the two were crying out, Zoey soaking Francis with her orgasm as her entire body shuddered. Francis pulled out as her spasm ended, releasing his torrent all over her ass and back. Zoey groaned, reaching behind with one hand to rub his essence into her skin while staring sultrily at the panting biker.

Louis and his gray lover saw everything, the erotic display bringing their coupling to a climax as well. The witch shrieked, leaning back on her claws as her body spasmed, the shiver of her orgasm traveling up and down her body, dotting her arms with little gray goose bumps. Louis groaned with his own pending release, deciding to pull out as well. He pumped his throbbing manhood twice before spewing his orgasm all over the witch's firm tummy, some of the more powerful spurts reaching all the way up to her chest. The witch was breathing raggedly, watching the dark man release everything on her. She purred contently as she came down from her orgasm, smiling while rubbing his essence into her chest and stomach with her palm.

The four lovers leaned against the walls and countertop as they came down from their sexual high. Louis grinned like a puppy being petted, his kind demeanor coming forward once more.

"Y'know, usually after such a rush of intense sex with a beautiful woman I hardly know, I like to get her number so I can call her the next morning." Louis said.

"Leave it to you to ruin what would otherwise be perfect no-strings-attached sex by asking for a girl's number," Francis said as he sat down on the toilet lid, his own legs still shaking. "Next you'll be offering her money for cab fare- OUCH! Watch it!" He exclaimed as Zoey chucked a bar of soap, catching him right in the chops. The witch giggled at the display, which in turn made the three survivors stare at her with raised eyebrows.

"It's amazing how much more she's acted like a person ever since meeting us," Zoey said, hoping up to sit on the countertop next to the witch, kicking her feet in the air.

The witch smiled at the college girl's casual demeanor, but suddenly turned her attention to the door with pouting lips, thinking of the man asleep on the other side. As much as she had enjoyed her time with the other survivors, she missed her gray eyed soldier and wanted to repeat the events from last night.

"Awww... do you miss Bill?" Zoey asked with a big grin on her face. The witch looked at her in confusion, until Zoey hopped down and led the witch to the bathroom door. Pulling the door open slowly, she and the witch poked their heads out to stare at the sleeping veteran on the bed.

"Bill," Zoey said, pointing to the old soldier. The witch stared at him intently, her mind processing the new information.

"Biiilllll…." She said slowly, pointing at him. Zoey suppressed a squeal of delight. The witch was learning names, now. Zoey pulled her back into the bathroom, shutting the door.

"Louis," she said, pointing at the dark man who grinned shyly, a rather stark contrast to his personality from a few minutes ago. The witch stared at him before saying his name as well, drawing it out as her pretty lips tried to pronounce the words.

"Loouussss….. Loouuuuiissss….." she said, pointing at him.

Zoey turned her attention to Francis, saying his name next, though when the witch tried to pronounce it, it sounded more like she was describing the country of France. Zoey and Louis got a laugh at that, while Francis swore under his breath about the insult of being confused with what he felt was one of the wussiest countries on the planet.

Zoey pointed to herself, saying her name. The witch stammered at first, but got it.

"Zoooeee.. Zooeiieeee," she said with a little strain.

Then the college girl pointed at their gray companion, and a silence filled the room.

The witch realized that "Zoooeeeyyy" wanted to know what she was called. She searched her mind, being able to recall the many times people shouted "Witch!" upon seeing her before fleeing. Was that what she was? She didn't like the memories associated with it. The loneliness, the ostracization, the desire for contact never being fulfilled; all of it made her want to cry.

With trembling lips she answered, though it made her heart hurt.

"Www… Wwiiiittt… Wiiittcchh…" She stammered, her single word breaking into a sob as she finished.

Zoey quickly embraced the gray griever in a tight hug, feeling terrible for asking her to remember something as obscure as her own name. The three survivors were surprised she could even answer, but the fact that she was so upset showed how much of the person she once was still existed inside her shattered mind.

"I'm sorry," Zoey said in a shaky voice as the witch cried. "I… I just wanted to know your _name_."

Something clicked in the witch's head when Zoey emphasized the word 'name.' Her crying ceased as she pulled away from the college student. Her golden eyes narrowed in concentration as her mind attempted to pull her name from the tattered remains of her memory. The group waited in anxious silence as the witch lips trembled with a low growl.

"Rrrrrssss… Errrrsss… Eerrrrriiissss…" She finally said.

"Eris?" Zoey asked. "Your name is Eris?"

The witch repeated, "Errrisss" while pointing to herself.

"The goddess of chaos and discord? Groovy." Francis commented.

"Groovy," Zoey said, mocking him, until a thought occurred to her. "Wait a minute Francis. You know about Greek mythology?"

Francis laughed. "You say that like you're surprised I know anything that came out of a book."

Zoey shot him a lopsided stare and a half smile.

"Ouch. You really have me pegged, doncha sweetheart?" Francis said, faking like his feelings were hurt. "Actually, I have said goddess tattooed on my back. See?"

The biker stood and turned around to show his muscled back to the group. Starting at just below his shoulder blades, spanning nearly to his lower back was a tattoo of a beautiful woman with a glowing white aura behind her. Her long flowing blond hair splayed playfully behind her as though defying gravity. Her white toga like dress clung to her curves and shimmered as she stood with a coy and seductive stance. Stretching out of her back was a pair of black angelic wings. She wore a bewitching smile as she held a golden apple outstretched in her left hand. The apple was aglow as though it was endowed with the same powers as the goddess who offered it.

"Wow." Louis said, admiring the artwork. "You got it colored? That must've cost a fortune."

"It wasn't all that bad. Mickey at the tattoo parlor owed me a favor, plus I was a regular customer," Francis said, flexing his arm muscles for emphasis, showing off the numerous tattoos that adorned his "guns."

Zoey chuckled to herself. _"A gorgeous blond goddess who represents anarchy and chaos… typical choice for Francis,"_ she thought._ "How ironic that in this zombie apocalypse, the one "infected" who is just as beautiful and anything but chaotic, bears the same name."_

The witch approached the biker, carefully rubbing the knuckle of one claw over the woman on his back. She rubbed in slow circles around the aura of blond hair that surrounded her, causing Francis to shiver a little at the delicate touch. She then ran two of her claws through her own long white hair, watching the strands run through her fingers as she remembered its original color.

"Uhh… if I flex I can make her wiggle her hips." Francis said, trying to break the tension.

"No thanks." Louis said, not at all interested in seeing the naked biker flex _anything._ He noticed the witch staring at the bathroom door once more while running her fingers through her own hair. It was clear that "Eris" wanted to spend time with Bill, and she likely wanted to be alone.

"Uhh… Zoey, I think me and Francis are gonna go get cleaned up in one of the other bathrooms. Then there's the radio to check on, plus mine and Bill's M16's could use a cleaning. Wanna come with?"

Zoey caught on, realizing that Louis actually was trying to give Eris some time alone with Bill. The college girl had a feeling it was more than just sex to her named goddess; she wanted some serious time with him. Zoey decided right then that she was going to make sure Bill and Eris had the most memorable moment of their lives.

It merely required a little preparation.

"I'll catch up with you guys in a little bit. Eris and I could stand to get cleaned up too, and she can't clean herself with those claws," Zoey said, gently tugging the witch by her clawed hand. "Also I have something special planned for her and Bill."

"Oh really?" Francis said with a wry smile.

"Not what you're thinking, you perv," Zoey said, gently punching him in the arm. The witch watched the display, then mimicked the petite college girl, lightly punching the biker's arm as well.

"Perrrrvvv," she said with a smile, pointing at Francis.

It took everything the three survivors had to keep from laughing.

"Ok," Louis chuckled, still trying to keep his hearty laugh down about as well as a drinker tries to keep down his booze from the night before. "Let's go."

Francis and Louis stealthily opened the bathroom door, relieved to see Bill still sleeping. They gathered up their clothes and their weapons and made a hasty exit, leaving Zoey and Eris to their own devices.

Zoey observed the gray goddess, who was giggling at the two male survivors as they scurried out like naked cat burglars. Her personality had changed so much since meeting the group. Her humanity was shining through like the sun peeking through a stormy sky. Zoey grinned, very happy she was warming up to everyone. Still, the college girl knew Eris had a particular attraction to the group's leader, as he did towards her. Bill would wake up soon, and Zoey was determined to ensure the first "infected" he saw would put a huge smile on his face.

"C'mon Eris. Let's get cleaned up. We want to smell fresh for Bill." Zoey said as she closed the bathroom door and turned the shower back on.

"Biiilllll," Eris said longingly, her enunciation of her lover's name sounding less drawn out. Though her enunciation was somewhat distorted, her voice was very melodious and sounded more human. Zoey thought briefly of when the group was tracking the strange singing through the woods. The witch's voice sounded very close to the beautiful song they'd heard.

Zoey took Eris by the claw and led her back into the steamy shower. The college girl opened her mouth, catching some of the shower spray and gargling with it before spitting it out. It wasn't as good as mouthwash, but it would do. Eris mimicked her and followed suit, catching the water in her mouth and swishing it about her cheeks before spitting it out in an almost exaggerated fashion. Zoey giggled; the witch was so cute. Her mind was re-learning everything that had been wiped clean from her viral change, and mimicking seemed to be her most effective method of learning.

Zoey quickly lathered up her hands with a bar of soap. The college girl scrubbed her gray lover down tenderly, but expeditiously. As much as she would love a repeat of what happened the first time, this was about getting Eris cleaned up for Bill. Eris watched as Zoey quickly moved in front then behind her, scrubbing down every bit of her. Once she'd finished rinsing the gray goddess, Zoey scrubbed herself, washing off the passion she'd accumulated over the last several hours. Eris reached out with one claw, wanting to wash Zoey in the same manner, but she paused, realizing her claws would make such an act very uncomfortable. She sighed sadly and stared at the shower floor as Zoey scrubbed herself clean.

"What's wrong?" Zoey asked as she finished rinsing herself off. Her witchy shower mate looked depressed.

Eris held out her deadly claws and stared at them, then at the bar of soap Zoey had set down.

"You wanted to wash me?" Zoey asked with a half smile, knowing full well that she'd likely get sliced to ribbons before getting clean. Eris nodded. Zoey squirted a dollop of shampoo on her palm and rubbed her hands together as an idea formed in her head.

Zoey showed her shampoo-covered hands to Eris, allowing her to process what she was about to do. The college girl brought her hands to the witch's head and leaned her forward so she could lather up her soft platinum tresses. Zoey worked the shampoo into her hair, deliberately using only her palms and the base of her fingers. After a few minutes, she rinsed her hair under the hot shower.

"Ok Eris, now it's your turn," Zoey said as she held the shampoo bottle. Eris stared for a moment then held out her claws as though she were catching water in her palms. Zoey squirted some shampoo into her palms, then watched as the witch slowly rubbed the slimy substance between her hands. The petite auburn-haired survivor smiled and bowed, placing her head in front of her tall gray lover. Eris, mindful of her deadly claws, carefully lathered the shampoo into the survivor's hair in slow circles, much like what had been done to her. Her claws easily overshot Zoey's head by several inches, but the witch took great care, lathering and scrubbing for several minutes before gently pushing her by the forehead until the spray of water rinsed away the aromatic suds.

"Thank you," Zoey said, her auburn hair half hanging in her face. Eris smiled, happy that she could wash Zoey without harming her. She tenderly brushed her red hair aside with one claw.

"Thaannkk yooouu," Eris repeated, smiling down at Zoey. The college girl giggled, pecking the witch on the lips quickly before turning off the shower. She led her out and dried her off with a fresh towel, then allowed the witch to do the same to her. She did pretty well, though it took longer than a person without deadly fingernails.

Once both women were dry, Zoey searched the bathroom cabinets for the next phase of her plan. She found a large brush and a hair dryer. She quickly ran the brush through her hair, straightening out the tangles, then went to work on Eris' long platinum mane. Zoey stood behind Eris in front of the large mirror as she tended to her white locks. Between the dryer and Zoey's careful brushing, the witch's long hair went from wet and matted to dry, soft and full, looking very much like the tattoo on Francis' back. Eris ran her claws through her shimmering platinum mane again, smiling broadly at Zoey in the mirror.

"Thannkk yoouu," Eris said, her amber eyes watering with gratitude. She'd never felt so loved.

"You're welcome, but we're not done yet," Zoey said as she led the gray goddess into the bedroom. Bill was still out like a light, though he had managed to twist the blanket around his naked form. Zoey searched the drawers stealthily, fortunate to find a white lace bra and panties that looked to be the perfect fit. She tenderly slid the witch's arms through the straps, fitting the lace cups over her large gray globes before fastening the bra behind her. The panties were next, as Zoey guided Eris' feet into them one at a time before pulling the white cotton panties up to her hips.

Zoey eyed her up and down, feeling almost envious of her voluptuous figure. Eris giggled, feeling very sexy in her new undergarments, but Zoey wasn't finished. The closet was next for rummaging, and the petite survivor found the perfect outfit. She removed a white, cotton, pullover sundress, with a tapered waist and a V-cut top. She brought the dress over Eris' head, slipping her claws through the armless straps.

The dress fitted her beautifully, the V-cut showing a couple inches of her gray cleavage, while the tapered waist hugged her shapely figure. The back of the dress was partially open, covering the bra clasp but showing off the wearer's smooth gray back to about her midsection. The base of the dress stopped several inches above her knees. The dress was slightly sheer and one could see the outline of the wearer's thighs with the right lighting.

The college girl stared in shocked admiration. She'd turned an already very sexy woman into a gorgeous goddess. Eris was a vision of gray and white beauty. Simple, yet stunning.

"You're… beautiful," Zoey said, her mouth slightly agape.

Eris giggled prettily before spinning around once, the light material fluttering and raising up, briefly showing off her white underwear. Zoey smiled, certain that Bill was going to have one hell of a wake up surprise.

"You two have fun," Zoey said coyly as she began dressing, pulling up her jeans and fastening them around her hips. As she bent over to pick up her top, she felt the witch's strong embrace around her waist.

"Thannkk youuu… Zoeeyy," The witch whispered into her petite companion's ear. Zoey beamed, turning around to give her witchy woman a big hug and a tender kiss on the cheek.

"You're welcome. Now go wake Bill so you two can pick up where you left off," Zoey said with a smile as she finished dressing. She quietly shut the door behind her before heading downstairs to join Francis and Louis.

Eris sighed happily, humming melodiously as she approached her sleeping lover. She hovered over him on the bed, ready to shower him with kisses, until she noticed her lover's expression.

Bill looked very unsettled. His face was twisted into an uncomfortable frown and his forehead was dotted with perspiration. He was moaning in his sleep, sounding very distressed.

"No… mmph… nooo…." Bill mumbled as his body twitched, his face contorted into a mask of fear.

Eris froze.

Something was very wrong.  
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-  
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A/N: Sorry this was a bit longer than usual. Anonymous reviews are enabled, so show me the love people!


	5. The Passing Intermission

_**Legal Disclaimer: All characters and the main zombie apocalypse plot are property of Valve. However the twist on the sub plot is mine, so yet again let's not go there as far as plagiarism, or I will have a tank do unholy things to your rectum with a truck exhaust pipe.**_

_Mature Content Warning: This story contains sexual themes and should not be read by those under age 18, those over age 65, individuals with heart conditions, low blood pressure, or those born under the sign of Gemini or Libra. However, I won't tell if you won't tell._

Author's Note: Yet again everyone, thank you for the reviews, as well as all you anonymous reviewers. It means a lot to me to get positive feedback and constructive criticism. I hope I'm not dragging this story out for anyone, but there's a lot I still want to fit in (insert lame sexual joke here). This chapter, as the name may imply, is based on The Passing, a new campaign released for L4D2. As of this writing, Valve has not released their official account of the events that precede The Passing involving the survivors from L4D1.

Enjoy!

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Chapter 5 – Passing Intermission

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"We've got no choice! We have to get this bridge raised!" Francis said in a half yell over the roaring winds, his vest flapping hard against his chest. The sky was dark, completely covered in a blanket of gray clouds. A rather nasty storm was on its way.

Bill blinked, having a momentary lapse of memory. He was standing on a highway with his team, including their newest "infected" member, who appeared to be wearing a somewhat battered dress.

What the hell were they doing in… wait, where were they?

A nearby storefront sign, barely hanging onto its hinges in the gusting winds, read: "Jules' Fresh Crawfish. Serving Rayford, GA since 1894."

Rayford, Georgia? What were they doing so far south?

Bill looked around. They appeared to be on one side of a rather large vertical lift bridge that connected two parts of the southern town. The opposite side of the bridge appeared to be completely free of the infected. On their side, numerous dead infected lay scattered about, bullet holes and vicious claw marks adorning their lifeless bodies. Nearby was a very large gasoline generator just outside of a small two-story building with several huge hydraulic engines. The generator likely powered the mechanism for raising and lowering the bridge.

"Man this is gonna be like the truck stop all over again…" Louis said, the winds finally dying down a little.

Zoey looked around nervously, a Heckler & Koch MSG90A1 modified military sniper rifle slung over her shoulder.

Where did she get _that_? Bill only remembered the college girl carrying a small hunting rifle.

"Ah don't be such a pansy, Louis. We can handle it," Francis said as he brandished a rather large pistol. Bill blinked, his eyes playing tricks on him. There was no way that was a Berretta 9mm.

Bill's eyes went wide, suddenly recognizing the Desert Eagle .50 AE Magnum in the biker's gloved hand. He'd never seen a sidearm that powerful when they were scavenging for supplies. Where the hell did Francis find that hand-held monster, and why the hell wasn't there an extra one for him?

The sound of low growls broke the war vet from his envious stare. His gray-skinned companion was unsettled, her attention focused on something above the bridge, though the old vet couldn't see anything.

The witch spotted a lone hunter clinging to one of the bridge's large metal support trusses. Just like the way a lion tries to tackle the weakest gazelle, the hunter was eyeing the young college girl in the group. The survivors were unaware of his presence, his gray hoodie and the rather dark sky allowing him to blend in with the dulled metal support trusses.

The two infected locked eyes with each other, the hunter staring in apprehension and curiosity at his infected "sister" traveling with humans. The witch's eyes narrowed, knowing full well what was on the hunter's one-track mind.

The witch's growls turned to a rather melodious but threatening howl which she projected towards the stalking infected. He was easily close enough to pounce on one of the humans, but the angry witch in such close proximity halted his plans for an easy meal. The witch flickered her dagger-like claws together threateningly, slicing the air with her rapid finger movements.

The hooded infected may have been hungry, but he wasn't stupid.

The hunter snarled in frustration before leaping away from the group along the supports, putting as much distance between himself and his irritated "sister." The four humans looked up just in time to see the infected leaper making a hasty retreat, off to find an easier meal.

"Wow, where've you been all our lives?" Zoey asked the witch, who's stance had relaxed now that the threat was gone. The witch smiled, winking at the pretty college girl.

Bill shook his head. Was he seeing things? Did the witch just wink?

"All right, let's get this over with. That bridge isn't going to rise very quickly, so let's find a good spot to hold off the horde once we start that generator." Louis said.

After a brief search, the three young survivors settled for crouching in the dead center of the bridge. There wasn't any nook for them to hide in that wouldn't put them near the edge, and the danger of a smoker yanking them off the bridge was worse than fending off the infected from 360 degrees.

Bill stood by the generator, still spacing out. What the hell was going on?

"Uhh… I guess you're gonna fire up the generator Bill?" Zoey asked from her position on the bridge?

"Huh? Oh yeah… right." Bill said, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. Looking up, he saw the witch was standing next to him, the corners of her pretty gray lips turned down to a frown. She stared at him with concern; he seemed rather absent-minded all of a sudden.

"I'm ok sweetheart," Bill said with a faint smile to his gray companion.

Wait. Did he just call the witch "sweetheart?" He couldn't remember ever referring to her by any pet names. The witch smiled a little at the sound of the nickname, gently touching his face with her claw.

"Prroommmiiissseeee?" She asked him in a very beautiful voice. Her question sounded as though she was half singing, half speaking.

Bill nearly fell over. Since when did the witch understand sentences? The most he remembered her understanding were a few vague words, the majority of communication involving body language.

"Yes… I promise." He said, shaking it off. He must've been getting senile. He couldn't remember anything since the group had tracked the docile witch to the cabin in the Pennsylvania woods. Maybe he knocked his head when that hunter pounced him in the cabin.

It didn't matter. His potential age-related mind lapses aside, they had a task at hand. Whatever the hell was going on, they needed to get the generator started.

"Ok here's the plan," Francis yelled as the winds began to pick up again. "Start the generator, then we all haul ass to the other side. We'll need to hold off the infected as the bridge lifts; can't have any of these bastards in our new 'home.' When the bridge is up, we'll be water locked in a safe haven away from the infected!"

Bill nodded as he threw the switch on the large generator, the machine roaring to life. His aged arms were thankful this huge beast didn't have a monster sized pull cord to go with it like the generator at the truck stop. He and the witch made their way towards the other survivors as the bridge began to rise, albeit rather slowly.

"C'mon, lets go go go!" Louis yelled as the five began to run towards the other side. With the noise, more infected would be swarming on them in moments.

Suddenly the generator fell silent and the bridge halted.

"Damn it!" Bill yelled in frustration. He and the witch went back to the generator, while the other three survivors followed them to the edge of the partially raised bridge. The bridge had only lifted a few feet, but at least the noise hadn't attracted any unwanted attention just yet.

Bill removed the side panel, flipping a circuit breaker that had blown. It appeared this generator was a backup generator, and likely hadn't been given a test run in quite some time, if at all. He only hoped it would be up for lifting the bridge at least once.

"C'mon ladies! Get a move on!" Francis yelled. The pair ran towards the rising bridge again, clambering up the side with a little help from the survivors. The bridge was now seven feet up as the five started to sprint for the other side.

Before they took ten steps, the generator went silent again.

Bill swore as he and the witch went back once more. The survivors had to help lower the old vet down, while the witch simply leapt down on her own. Bill opened the side panel again, flipping the breaker over once more before firing up the generator.

"I'm gettin' too old for this horseshit," he grumbled as he slammed the panel back in place. The witch giggled.

"Yoourreee nooot oollld," she whispered in his ear, almost singing the words. "Juusssstt welll seeasssoonned." She finished, kissing him on the cheek.

Bill blushed deep as his witchy woman smiled lovingly at him. He was still very confused. He never remembered the witch being able to speak sentences, let alone make a joke.

The bridge began its ascent again, now a good ten feet off the ground. The witch leapt up and grabbed the edge as though it was nothing, but both Francis and Louis had to grab Bill's hands as he made the jump. Zoey helped pull the witch over the ledge, though the strong infected woman clearly didn't need the assistance. As the men began pulling the war vet up, the generator went silent again.

"Craaaappp!" Zoey yelled, punching the asphalt in frustration. "Now what are we going to do?"

"Louis… Francis," Bill said quietly, his steel gray eyes staring at them both with resignation. "Let me go."

Francis and Louis let the old man drop to the ground, confused. The old soldier winced in pain; his ankles weren't what they used to be. Zoey looked on in confusion as well, her auburn ponytail whipping about as another strong gust blew through the trellises.

Zoey suddenly went cold all over, but it wasn't from the wind.

She knew what Bill was about to do.

"No… no we can do this," she said, her voice beginning to stammer. Francis and Louis stared at Bill in disbelief, the realization dawning on them both. "We… we can find a rope or something, yeah!" The college student said in nervous laugh. "And… and when the bridge is fully raised, we can pull you up!"

Bill shook his head quietly. Zoey was trying to ignore what was painfully obvious.

"Bill!" Zoey cried, on the verge of tears. "We're all getting to safety! We can go find a rope or something on the other side first and…"

"And what are you going to do if the infected get across this bridge while we're gone?" The old vet said quietly as he stared at his four friends above him. "We can't split up, and we can't take the chance of this area being compromised. We have to get this bridge raised _now_, or all of this is for nothing." Bill looked away for a moment at the generator. "I'll stay here and keep this bucket of bolts running."

"Are you crazy, old man?" Francis asked, sounding more worried than Bill had ever heard the tough biker. "If we run to the other side we can't cover you, and if we stay on the bridge, eventually it will be too high up for us to avoid friendly fire!"

"He's right!" Louis chimed in, shaking his head at the war vet's decision. "Francis is the most gung-ho, bull-headed, get-your-hands-dirty, crazy-ass white boy I know, and even _he_ thinks this is crazy! And you know what? He's right! This is insane! Hell, its suicide!"

Zoey nodded slowly, everything she wanted to say having already been said. Truth be told, she was too choked up to add anything else. The thought of losing Bill made her so upset she felt sick, and while she wanted to say _anything_ to get him to reconsider, she simply couldn't summon her voice. Even if she could, a part of her knew she wouldn't be able to change his mind. Once Bill had decided on something that was it. He and Francis could go head to head on who was more stubborn, but when push really came to shove, Bill won hands down.

The witch stared in confusion as the four survivors talked. Though she'd improved dramatically with spoken cognition and verbal memory, she still didn't understand everything that was being said. All she seemed to gather was that Bill was going to stay behind, but she didn't fully understand what that entailed. Though her lover was addressing everyone, his eyes kept lingering back to her amber stare.

"Biiilllll…." The witch said, her voice wavering. She wasn't about to let him fight alone. She prepared to leap down, until she saw him raise his hand.

"No!" He said forcefully. The witch's lower lip pouted out as her golden eyes watered.

"The crying game isn't going to work with me this time. Just stay with them, this old man can take care of himself," he said with a half smirk to his gray skinned lover. A part of him was still wondering when the witch's cognitive faculties had improved so much; she didn't have a firm grasp on verbal communication from the last time he remembered. Heck he didn't even remember telling her his _name_."

The witch huffed in discontent and looked away, folding her arms across her chest. She was rather unhappy with his decision, but not about to challenge him. Bill was thankful she didn't completely comprehend the full gravity of the situation, or it would've likely taken a tank to hold her back. She probably just thought he was being stubborn, and that he would regroup with them later.

Bill sighed inside; the witch had no idea this little "tiff" would likely be their last. The irony wasn't lost on the old man that the person he'd spent the least amount of time with during this crazy adventure was the one he would miss the most.

"You guys just cover me as best you can. That should at least be long enough for the bridge to get high enough so these crazy bastards can't climb it," he said, beginning to raise his voice as the wind picked up. "Once I'm out of range, you just get the hell outta here. You should be able to leap to the roof or a terrace of one of the buildings on the other side when the bridge is high enough, and from there you can make your way down to the ground on the other side."

"Bill!" Zoey yelled over another harsh gust of wind. The storm was coming fast as yet another harsh gust blew down the street. She was about to burst into tears trying to think of anything to stop him. "I… I just…"

"Save it!" He yelled back as the wind howled louder, putting one hand on his beret to keep it from flying off his head. "I am NOT sending myself off as a martyr, so none of you think otherwise!" Bill yelled, addressing everyone before turning his focus to Zoey. "Now get the tears outta your eyes, girl, and cover my ass!"

Zoey choked back a sob, her baby blues about to spill over. The college girl blinked away her tears and brought her military sniper rifle to bear, aiming the cross hairs near his rear.

"Your ass is covered, you stubborn son of a bitch." she said, the first tear running down her pale cheek.

"Good luck," Louis choked out, pulling back the bolt on his M-16.

"There better be a lot more than 72 virgins waiting for you when you get up there, old man. And you better save a dozen for me." Francis said with a slight quiver in his voice as he cocked the magnum.

Bill saluted his comrades then looked to the witch, who was still giving him the cold shoulder. He figured that was for the best. He didn't want her to witness what could be his going out in a blaze of glory. Plus, saying goodbye to her would be the hardest thing he'd have to do, aside from holding his own against hundreds of raging zombies.

The war vet double timed it to the generator, flipping the breaker yet again to restart it. The large machine roared to life again, this time staying on for a bit. The bridge continued to rise, but at a rather slow pace. As the generator's roar echoed over the desolate town, the cries of the infected answered in a collective scream.

They were coming.

A large wave flooded towards the war vet from behind a building two blocks away. The ascending survivors unloaded their weapons, mowing down the charging group. Another group of commoners burst from out of the engine room, but Bill was ready for them. His M-16 lit up at the barrel as he dropped the first wave closing in on him. A few were able to avoid the bullet spray, but several well placed shots from Zoey's rifle took them down.

The generator died yet again, stranding the group a good 25 feet above. As Bill flipped the breaker and restarted the unreliable power supply, a deafening roar echoed over the town.

"Oh shit…" Bill said.

"Tank!" Louis bellowed, taking the first shots with his M-16 at a massive figure in the distance. The huge, mutated, infected beast roared, slapping an abandoned car out of its way as it barreled towards the war vet and the noisy generator. Bill let go with his M-16, while Zoey fired round after round from her sniper rifle. Francis unloaded an entire clip from his magnum, quickly slamming another home and emptying the magazine into the angry tank once more. The tank groaned and collapsed, falling to his face before he got within ten feet of the war vet.

The witch was growing antsy watching the fighting, having long since dropped her pouting act towards Bill. She hated not being able to do anything, though it seemed the humans were doing fine so far. Watching her lover fight for his life down below made her anxious, especially as she continued to ascend, moving further away from him.

Bill laughed heartily as the generator continued humming. This wasn't so bad. Maybe once this was all over he'd be able to…

A strange guttural sound came from behind one of the adjacent buildings. The creature that emerged looked like a tank, but only half way mutated, its right arm massive while its left flopped about like a useless appendage. Its face looked battered and half eaten away on the larger side of its body, as though it had a number of run-ins with a rather hard wall.

The creature roared like an angry bull and charged the war vet with surprising speed. Bill barely got out of the way in time as the creature missed its target and slammed into the generator, effectively shutting it off again. The creature stumbled from its missed charge, giving the survivors ample time to fill it full of lead. With a groan, the new infected collapsed in a smoking heap.

"What the hell _is_ this?" Bill asked, before another frightening screech pierced the air. It sounded like a sick cat, and it's cries were like nails on a chalkboard. The source emerged from the landing of a building off to the right. She was very tall, had an elongated neck, and bright green drool dribbling down her distended body. Her mouth was wider than any ordinary human, the lips and most of the corners looked to be eaten away by the same green slime drooling from her mouth.

"What the hell?" Zoey said as she took aim. The creature craned up towards the new voice and with a sudden violent spasm, ejected a huge ball of green goop like a missile at the team above. Zoey shot the spitting woman right between the eyes, her death cry echoing from below, but not before her caustic payload was launched at the group. The goo ball splattered and spread out at the feet of the team, the burning properties immediately causing all of them to jump around.

"Aahhh! What is this shit?" Francis yelled, jumping back. Louis tried to move, but slipped and fell onto his side, the green slime eating into his flesh. The systems analyst screamed as the goo ate right through his pants and began dissolving his skin and muscle. Zoey and Francis were unable to help, the toxic substance having spread out, creating a barrier.

The witch ran into the slime and hauled the dark man out, the green goo having no effect on her.

"Fuck! My leg!" Louis yelled, as he clutched his injured leg, gritting his teeth.

"Don't move Louis," Zoey said, trying to assess the damage. The goo wasn't acidic, yet it had corroded Louis' entire outer thigh, catching part of his buttocks. While she and Francis tended to the systems analyst, the witch looked over the edge of the bridge with a heated breath at her lover down below.

Bill was having problems of his own. The new special infected brought some old friends to the party. As another wave of commoners charged, a smoker appeared behind the mass. Bill was too busy cutting down the commoners to notice, being flanked on all sides. After he cracked another group with the butt of his rifle, the smoker's coughing got his attention. Bill tried to bring his rifle to bear, but there were too many commoners to deal with. Like a bullet out of a gun, the smoker ejected his tentacle tongue through the crowd, snagging the war vet by his throat and pulling him away. The commoners gave chase, kicking and beating on him as the smoker brought Bill off his feet, dragging him ever closer.

As if adding insult to injury, a hunter crawled out of the engine room near the generator. He was focused on the helpless war veteran, who was still trying to free himself from the smoker's tongue while being beaten like a piñata.

Without a second of hesitation, the witch leapt from the edge of the bridge into a feet-first dive.

"What the hell?" Francis exclaimed as he tried in vain to grab the crazy white-haired woman. He was a moment too late.

"Even if you'd caught her, you wouldn't be able to stop her." Zoey said, seeing the jump out of the corner of her eye.

The hunter screeched, preparing to leap on his pray, but his cry was cut short by another mimicking scream from above. The hooded freak turned to see a very angry witch plummeting towards him like a bomb from the bridge above. Her dress fluttered up in the air as she fell, exposing her white lace panties.

The hunter stared, slack-jawed, for a moment too long...

The witch landed on her claws and feet, right onto the stunned hunter with a wet, sickening crunch. His bones shattered and his head exploded like a thrown watermelon as the witch's landing impact drove him into the street, cushioning her from the fall. Her dive would've killed an ordinary person, but her strengthened body was able to absorb what the hunter's pulverized frame did not.

The witch shrieked and charged the rabble surrounding her lover. Her claws kicked up sparks from the asphalt like a stone grinder, her arms extended towards the ground as she ran into the fray. With several fast uppercut swipes, she cleaved the entire mob where they stood. Wasting no time, she lunged forward to stab the smoker right in his tumor-covered face. The lanky infected died with a wheezing gasp, his body emitting a cloud of disgusting green smoke.

Bill coughed and gasped as a familiar claw helped him up. Through the smoke cloud he saw the amber eyes of his lover, her stare a mixture of relief and frustration.

"I… _cough_… told you to stay up on the bridge!" Bill half yelled, gagging on the smoker's rancid death air. He hurried back to the generator, flipping the stubborn breaker again and restarting the noise maker. As the generator roared to life again, Bill felt eyes boring into his skull. The witch glared at him with her arms folded across her chest at his rather ungrateful remarks for her saving his life.

"Sorry…" Bill said as he loaded another clip into his M-16. "I just…"

His apology was interrupted by a loud screech that cut through the noisy generator like a witch's claws.

"Saaaveee iit…" The witch said with a half smile, mocking him as she took an offensive stance. Another hunter leapt down the side of a building as though defying gravity, before springing towards the aged war vet like a cat on a mouse. Bill ducked into a roll just in time to avoid the hunter's pounce. The witch lunged forward and stabbed the hooded leaper through the back of the neck before he had a chance to spin around. The hunter collapsed with a gurgle as he choked on his own blood.

Bill sprang to his feet as the witch stood by his side. More of the enraged infected were pouring out of a side street, while another wave charged out of a small café across the way. The pair stood back to back as the two waves of death swarmed towards them.

"Let's do this," Bill said, wiping some errant blood from his forehead before pulling back the bolt on his M-16. The witch growled in agreement, flexing her claws in anticipation.

.

* * *

.

"Man it's no use, my leg is fucked up." Louis groaned as he tried standing before collapsing onto the rising asphalt. Zoey tried patching him up with a first aid kit, but the damage was too extensive.

"Guys, we still need to protect Bill, so help me get into prone position at the edge of this bridge," the systems analyst said. The two survivors helped Louis roll onto his stomach then pulled him to the edge of the bridge so he could take shots at the gathering crowds with his M-16.

Francis and Zoey took up positions on either side of their downed comrade, the three of them providing more cover fire while the pair below dealt with the commoners. Francis fired a .50 slug through the head of a smoker that was ready to snipe Bill from another building. A boomer gurgled and waddled towards the crowded pair, but a round from Zoey's sniper rifle popped the bloated infected like a dart on a balloon. The boomer's death explosion staggered a group of charging commoners, giving Louis time to take them down before they recovered. Several of his shots missed, and while he would've liked to blame it on the rather distracting pain in his leg, the fact that the group was now over 30 feet in the air was definitely hindering his aim. Francis' shotgun was completely worthless, and even the magnum was losing its accuracy from their current height. Only Zoey was unaffected, her sniper rifle meant for distance shots. As she swept the surrounding area for more targets, her breath caught in her throat.

"Guys…" she said, her hands trembling, distorting the view through her scope. "We've got a problem…"

"What now, is there a new special infected that shoots toxic gas bubbles from its ass?" Francis said dryly.

"Worse," Zoey said, ignoring his sarcasm as she double checked through her scope. "I see _two _tanks."

"The hell? That's bullshit! They don't travel in pairs!" Francis retorted.

"Bullshit, my half corroded black ass! Tell that to _them!_" Louis yelled as the twin juggernauts came into view. From down the street, two of the muscle bound behemoths were roaring and slapping slower commoners out of their way as they charged, both of them dead set on pummeling the mobbed survivor by the generator.

"No problem. We's down south. Haigh time we a had us ah barbecoo!" Francis said in an exaggerated southern drawl, lighting a Molotov he'd pulled from his belt. The tanks were still a good distance away, which would give the fiery explosive just enough time to burn them both to the ground before they got too close. The biker leaned back, preparing to give the throw of his life. He pitched forward…

And just like that, the bridge suddenly stopped its ascent.

The sudden jolt sent Francis stumbling, ruining his throw. The incendiary cocktail flew to the right of its mark, exploding harmlessly against one of the brick faces of the surrounding buildings. One of the tanks noticed, splitting off from its twin and focusing on the survivors stranded on the bridge.

"We got a problem." Francis mumbled.

.

* * *

.

"Well piss my shit, there're _two _of them!" Bill swore as he ran to reset the circuit breaker again. The war vet went to flip the power switch, but quickly yanked his hand back as though he'd grabbed a hot pot.

"Damn it! Now this thing's overheated? Great. Just fucking great!" Bill yelled as he slammed yet another clip into his rifle. This was like a nightmare. He was running low on ammunition, in fact he doubted he had enough to bring down one tank, let alone two.

A fiery explosion from the café caught his eyes. It looked like someone above tried to throw a Molotov but fell short.

One of the two tanks broke off to attack the three survivors above. It ripped up part of the asphalt street with a grunt, hurling the slab nearly 30 feet up. The road missile just barely reached the top of the bridge before plummeting to the waters below. The tank growled in frustration, looking for something else to hurl at the survivors.

The second tank roared and pounded its chest, making a bee line for the aged war veteran. The witch shrieked and slashed at the ground, creating sparks as her razor claws hit the concrete. She was trying to draw the tank's attention away from the war vet, but to no avail. Bill unloaded his M-16 into the towering beast, though it was like throwing rocks at a charging rhino. The tank grunted in annoyance as it closed the distance. Bill reloaded another clip, but the tank was on him in an instant, slugging him hard sending him flying against the building that housed the hydraulic motors.

"Aaaarrgghhh!" Bill screamed in pain, swearing he felt some teeth knocked loose. As his vision cleared, he saw both the tank and his witchy woman wearing expressions of rage.

Frankly, his lover's angry face scared him more.

The witch shrieked and charged, furious that the tank attacked her companion. She brought her claw up in a hard slash, catching the tank on the side of one beefy arm and removing a large chunk of flesh. The tank roared in surprise and anger, back-handing the gray infected woman hard, sending her flying. The witch landed by the adjacent corner of the engine room building. She picked herself up, wiping some errant blood from her chin as she shook off the stars. Even with her strengthened body, the tank's slap did a bit more than just tickle.

Bill felt a rage burning within himself he had never felt before. Seeing his lover backhanded like some out of line pimp's bitch made his blood boil. He charged the tank, unloading yet another clip into the muscled freak. The tank roared again, swinging hard but catching air as the vet ducked the devastating punch. Bill cracked the tank hard in the jaw with his rifle, but it only seemed to piss the tank off more. The tank towered over him, growling low like a bouncer about to hurl a rowdy punk out of a bar. Bill aimed his rifle right at the tank's face and pulled the trigger.

Click, click, click.

"Oh shit," Bill mumbled.

The tank roared and punched him hard again, the blow sending him through an open door into the building by the generator. Bill screamed as he slammed into one of the large engines; it felt like his spine had shattered. Blood pooled in his mouth and his vision went blurry. He felt dizzy, but he had to get up. He had to… wait, what was he doing? He couldn't remember. Something about the generator… The aged vet tried to stand, but his battered body was rooted to the floor.

The little ambient light in the doorway went dark as the tank's hulking frame came into view. This was going to hell in a hand basket real fast. The tank was out of the line of sight of his teammates and Bill was out of ammo. The tank growled, ready to send the war hero to meet his maker. Bill swallowed hard, staring death in the face with a little more fear then he thought he would. At least he had no regrets, save one.

He never said goodbye to his gray lover.

The tank roared and raised both fists over its head, preparing to deliver the deathblow.

.

* * *

.

The trio above kept pouring it on as the tank below looked for something else to throw. It spotted something a bit lighter than a slab of concrete, parked next to the café.

Zoey's eyes went wide as she watched the tank hurl a motorcycle like a Frisbee right at them.

"Harley!" Zoey yelled as she dove back.

"What?" Francis asked, before stumbling back as the hurled motorcycle whizzed by. Francis just barely missed having his face taken off by the airborne Harley-Davidson that shot past them, which landed in a crushed heap behind the survivors on the bridge.

"Now it's personal," Francis said, slamming another clip into his Desert Eagle.

The tank began climbing the support trellises with surprising speed. All three survivors unloaded everything they had, but the tank did not let up. Even worse, the commoners and special infected began climbing the bridge as well. Several of the scrambling maniacs were only able to climb about halfway before falling to their death, but the special infected were getting too close for comfort. Zoey had to divert her fire, picking off hunters, smokers, and even the fat boomers that were scaling the supports just as fast as the determined tank. The huge behemoth had climbed beyond the height of the stalled bridge before stopping to peer over its shoulder.

With an ear-shattering roar, the tank leapt from the support beams and crashed onto the raised asphalt like a wrestler into the ring. Louis barely rolled out of the way in time, the tank nearly flattening him like a pancake. It pounded its chest in triumph, its prey having nowhere to run.

Zoey and Francis backpedaled as they unloaded their weapons, the tank finally beginning to show some fatigue from the hailstorm of bullets as it half ran towards the pair. The tank ripped up part of the asphalt bridge and tossed it towards the college girl, knocking her down with a scream of pain.

"Gaaahh!" Zoey cried as the asphalt slab broke over her.

"Son of a bitch!" Louis yelled, pulling himself into a sitting position. He took careful aim with his M-16, firing several rounds into the tank's legs, hoping to distract it.

One bullet hit its mark, catching the behemoth in the Achilles tendon. The tank roared in surprise and pain, turning its attention for a second over his shoulder at the immobile dark man.

A second was all Francis needed.

"Aaaarrrggghhh!"

BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM!

Francis charged the tank with a battle cry, unloading his Benelli M4 tactical auto shotgun into the tank's back. The beast stumbled forward from the force of every shot before teetering near the edge of the raised bridge. One more would send him over the edge.

Click, click.

"Oh shit," Francis mumbled as the tank turned around with a low growl.

"Man, fuck this!" Louis yelled, staggering to his feet despite the immense pain. With the tank's attention distracted, the dark man took his only chance.

The injured hero body-checked the tank in its midsection. The tank fell backwards, one arm reflexively wrapping around the dark man as the force sent them both over the edge.

"Louis!" Zoey cried as she ran towards the end of the bridge, seeing the dark man and the bullet-riddled tank disappear from sight.

.

* * *

.

Bill braced himself for the blow that would finally end his suffering, but it never came. The tank roared with both hands over its head flailing them wildly. Through blurred vision, the war vet saw his gray goddess riding the tank like a jockey on a horse, tearing into his back and raking her claws over his eyes. The tank stumbled out into the open as the witch continued to dig into his meaty shoulders.

A sickening thud nearby distracted the witch. Bodies were falling out of the sky like rain, and for a moment the witch looked up to see the other survivors fighting for their lives as numerous commoners plummeted to their doom. The witch returned her attention to the injured tank, continuing to rip it apart.

Then the tables turned.

Half of an exploded boomer fell right onto the witch, knocking her from the tank's shoulders. She flung the dead infected off quickly, but the half blinded tank was already on her, slugging her hard and sending her sailing into the street. She coughed as she staggered to her feet, her tattered dress stained with dirt and dried blood.

_Blood. Pain. So much. Must help…_

Her thought was cut off as the tank grabbed her in one massive fist, shaking her like a rag doll. The tank roared in triumph as it slammed her into the ground, the asphalt cracking from the force of the blow.

The witch cried out, though it was low and weak. Even her strengthened body could only take so much.

The tank pinned her down, growling gutturally as it went nose to nose with her. The witch nearly gagged on its rancid breath as it panted in her face with unchecked rage. She had never been more afraid in her life, like when the hunter was about to violate her…

_Hunter pounced me. Bill saved me._

_Bill..._

_**Bill!**_

"Biiillll!" The witch wailed. She'd failed to protect him, and she was going to die before getting to see him one last time.

"Rrrggh… I'm… not… done… yet!" Bill stammered out as he propped himself up on the engine against his back. He drew one pistol and prayed for strength. His hands shook as he stared down the barrel, hearing his lover wail for him…

The war veteran screamed out her name, a name he never knew, and opened fire.

A sharp pain in the tank's back caught his attention. Over his shoulder, the downed war veteran was yelling as he unloaded his Berretta into the tank's back. The tank's grip loosened for a second…

The witch broke free of its grasp and shoved both claws below the tank's jaw, stabbing into his throat. The tank gurgled in surprise, turning his attention back to the witch even as the incapacitated war veteran continued firing round after round with deadly accuracy.

"Gyyaaaaahhh!"

With a battle cry, the witch brought her knees to her chest and kicked the tank hard with both feet, sending it staggering back. The tank clutched at its throat, but the tenacious monster still refused to go down. It roared again, half gurgling on its own blood. Even though it was bleeding out, the tank was still determined to finish the witch off. The tank ripped up a section of the road, ready to flatten the witch where she lay.

SPLAT!

Like a house falling out of the sky, the second tank fell from the bridge onto his brother, smashing him into the ground. With a blood-gargled groan, the huge beast finally breathed its last.

The witch sighed in relief as she picked herself up, staring at the two unmoving tanks. She stumbled over to the generator, using the knuckle of her claw to flip the breaker as she'd seen Bill do so many times. The generator roared to life again, rising the bridge and its precious human cargo the last several feet to safety. She turned her gaze skyward, hoping to catch a glimpse of the three survivors, but all she saw was a pair of legs being pulled onto the bridge, out of sight.

She turned towards the engine room, feeling her heart in her throat.

_Bill!_

The gray griever sobbed as she stumbled towards her lover. His pistol lay by his leg, his unmoving body slumped forward in a growing pool of blood. She bawled as she broke into a feeble attempt at a run, but her body was too beaten and battered. She staggered and fell to the ground a few yards from the doorway, crawling towards him and calling out his name. She too was bleeding out, and it was only a matter of time…

.

* * *

.

"Quick, give me a hand!" Francis yelled as Zoey ran towards the edge of the bridge. Francis was holding Louis by one arm, and his grip was slipping. Zoey helped pull her injured comrade to safety, all three of them gasping as they caught their breath.

With a jolt, the bridge began to rise once more, nearing the end of its ascent.

"That…," Louis huffed, "was too damn close."

"Serves you right for biting off way more than you could chew," Francis quipped, patting him on the shoulder.

Zoey sighed with relief. The thought of losing one of her friends was more than she could…

"Bill…" Zoey mumbled to herself.

The college girl peered over the edge, followed by the biker and the systems analyst. They spotted where the tank had fallen, ironically crushing its twin. The bodies of numerous commoners and special infected that made one last failed attempt to scale the bridge were scattered about as well.

The air was eerily quiet; everything below lay still. Zoey's ragged breathing quickened as she panicked, her eyes scanning the surrounding area over and over.

There was no sign of Bill or the witch.

Zoey sobbed uncontrollably, the reality of the situation having been lost in the heat of combat until now. Not one, but _two _people she cared for were gone forever.

"Hey! Snap out of it!" Francis said, lightly slapping her cheek. He hated seeing those beautiful baby blues watered over, but crying would have to wait. "We gotta get to safety now!"

"C'mon Zoey, help a brotha' up. We gotta bounce." Louis said, knowing the college girl got a chuckle from his slang. Zoey half-laughed half-cried as she helped Francis lift Louis to his feet. The dark man threw his arms around his comrades, leaning on them for support as he tried to walk.

The three survivors left the misery of death behind them as they wearily limped across the bridge.

.

* * *

.

Bill coughed as his pistol fell from his hand. Every breath hurt, his chest as heavy as lead. His vision was beginning to fade out as his life bled out of him.

He felt like crying. He'd given it his all, and he'd still failed. The bridge was stuck, his friends were likely done for, and his lover had died in vain trying to protect him. He prayed the ferryman would hurry up and take his sorry ass home…

His eyes snapped open to the sound of the generator as it roared to life. There, not a few yards away was his gray lover, flipping the breaker as he had done. She'd been through hell, her dress was ripped and stained with her own blood. Dark purple splotch marks adorned her gray skin everywhere. Her golden eyes fell upon his, and her voice came out in a hoarse cry as she called his name.

"Biiiillll" She cried feebly as she stumbled, falling to her hands and knees.

Bill was raging in his mind. This wasn't right! This wasn't how things were supposed to end! She was supposed to live!

The war vet tried to reach out for his love as she crawled towards him, but his arms felt like lead. She cried, repeatedly sobbing his name.

_No… please God, no!  
_

The golden eyed goddess collapsed, less than three feet away. Her arm extended feebly, desperately reaching for him as she weakly called his name once more. God, he'd give anything for this to stop!

_No!_

"Biillll…" Her cry died in her throat as her claw fell to the ground, lifeless.

_No! No! No!_

"Noooooooo!" Bill screamed, his cried echoing to the skies as the first drops of rain began to fall.

.

A/N: Still more to come, so tell me what you think. :-)


	6. Second Showing

_**Legal Disclaimer: As stated before, all characters (with the exception of Eris) are property of Valve. Eris belongs to me. Also the main zombie apocalypse plot is Valve's, but this sub plot is mine so no plagiarizing or I'll have Eris plays tic-tac-toe on your back with her claws! Wait… strike that. The way some of my readers are, that's more like threatening them with a good time. :-P**_

_Mature Content Warning: This story contains sexual themes and should not be read by those who are under age or who think sex is evil, corrupt, unholy, or should be saved for marriage only under penalty of religious retribution. Frankly, I am NOT advocating casual sex in my story, because it is just that… A STORY! So far no one has given me crap for that, and I'd like to keep it that way._

Author's Notes: Wow… just… wow! I can't believe this story has so many reviews! I've never had a story do this well, and I was rather flattered by a few of the reviews/death threats regarding the fate of the characters in Chapter 5. I'm with everyone who likes Bill, and I was rather miffed that Valve killed him. As I've said to friends in-game and in review replies, "If I wanted a sad ending, I'd turn on the news or pick up a newspaper. The world has enough sad endings for me." However, with Valve it's all about the bottom dollar. Thankfully I'm not getting paid squat for this, except for the adoration and wonderful reviews/comments from everyone out there… so if you think I deserve a "raise" then click the review link! Thank you all, anonymous reviewers as well.

Anyhow… on with the show!

..

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Chapter 6 – Second Showing

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..

Bill cried out in anguish as his lover collapsed in front of him, breathing her last.

_This can't be happening! It can't!_

The war vet watched her disappear from sight as his vision slowly faded to black. Everything around him was swallowed in the darkness. He could no longer see, nor hear, nor feel. His mind was slowly drifting away into the sea of nothingness.

If this was death, it was terrifying.

_No! No! I'm not ready yet! Please God…_

A melodious voice echoed from all around, piercing the darkness about to consume him. Though there were no words, the voice was no less enchanting.

_Singing?_

It _was_ singing, although it sounded so far away. It was the most beautiful singing he'd ever heard.

A white light seemed to grow and surround the war veteran, banishing the darkness as the unseen source of the singing drew closer. Though Bill was half on his back he felt weightless, as though he were floating up into heaven. The angelic voice seemed to come from in front of him, yet everywhere.

From out of the light, a delicate hand grasped his. As he was pulled off his back, the source of the beautiful voice came into view. Her skin was a flawless, light seashell color, and she appeared to be wearing a white toga-like dress. Long platinum blond hair appeared to flutter up above her head like a candle flame. Her bright emerald eyes glowed, casting a bewitching stare upon the deceased war vet. A pert nose sat in the middle of her pretty face, just above a pair of delicate pink lips, full and moist as they drew out every angelic note.

She was breathtakingly beautiful.

Bill felt himself blushing and unable to speak, the gorgeous angel having stolen his voice. He'd never met a woman who could take his breath away, with one exception…

The angel continued singing as their eyes met, flashing him a delicate smile that was both innocent and mischievous. A pair of black wings extended from her back, the midnight feathers a stark contrast to her pale skin. She pulled him to her breast, tenderly stroking his back as she nuzzled him in her chest. Her wings wrapped around him, the feathers more gentle and soft than the finest down.

"_If this is just the welcoming committee, I can only imagine what the rest of heaven must be like," _Bill thought to himself as he felt her soft body against his. The angel continued to sing, brushing her face into his hair as she nuzzled his head. As if acting on their own, his hands found the angel's back, pulling her even closer. She drew back and tilted his chin up to look at him, her gorgeous eyes surreal yet somehow familiar.

"Biilll.." she called to him softly. Her voice was so beautiful, yet so…

"Biilll." She called to him again, her voice echoing as the light around them began to disperse. Bill's vision went spotty, as though he'd just stared into the sun. The angel seemed to dissipate with the light, her voice still echoing in his ears as she called his name.

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* * *

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The witch kneeled aside her sleeping lover on the large bed, watching him anxiously with her claws folded in her lap. He appeared to be quite distressed; his forehead was dotted with perspiration and he was twitching slightly. His breathing was ragged and fast, as though he'd been running a marathon in his sleep.

She vaguely recalled having similar experiences when she slept. She often woke in a panic, first feeling disoriented and frightened, then very depressed as she calmed down. She typically felt more tired when she awoke than when she'd fallen asleep. They had a name, these things that played through her mind when she slept. What were they called?

_Dreams?_

The gray beauty remembered falling asleep in her lover's embrace. It was the first time she could recall not tossing and turning. She'd awakened slowly, rested and content, rather than in a sudden panic. She'd dreamed then, and it was anything but unpleasant.

"Mmpph… no… nooo…" Bill whispered, his eyes clenched shut in frustration.

No. This was no dream…

"Niightmaarre…" Eris whispered, her memory serving her well.

The gray goddess' amber eyes narrowed in concern as her lover pleaded for this nightmare to stop. Maybe she could wake him gently…

"Biiillll…" She said softly, attempting to coax him from his restless sleep.

"No… please… God… no…" Bill mumbled, a slave to his subconscious.

"Biiilllll…" She called out again, a little louder this time, gently stroking his cheek.

The war vet was still mumbling, though he wasn't moving about anymore. He'd turned onto his back, the twisted up blanket covering him from the waist down. He slowly extended his arm, as though trying to reach something that was simply too far away. He moaned, his hand trembling as his arm desperately tried to stretch for whatever it was he could not grasp.

The witch felt for her lover. She wished she could do something, _anything_ to comfort him.

Taking a deep breath, she began to sing.

Her voice was soft yet passionate, like that of a church choir. Though it had no words, her song was beautiful and soothing. She started with a slow tempo at first, her tone low, like a lullaby. Bill's hand gradually began to fall, his body responding to the witch's voice.

Eris grasped Bill's hand in hers, his fingers reflexively folding around her claws. She gently tugged the still sleeping trembling war vet into a sitting position as she serenaded him. He leaned into her chest, his face falling into her bosom. She gently and lovingly stroked his naked back with her palm, the same way he had done to her after their first night together.

Bill's ragged breathing slowed to gentle breaths. His hands found their way to her back, pulling her closer as he began to calm down. The witch could feel his heartbeat against her tummy, its rapid thumping causing her own heart to race a little. He nuzzled her soft breast, the hair of his beard ticking her slightly but not breaking her melody.

Eris smiled, her varying tones ascending as she continued to sing to her lover. Bill's breathing became even and deep, his rapid heart beat slowing to a gentle rhythmic thumping. Eris nuzzled his head with her nose, enjoying his scent. Her long tresses fell about his face, brushing his cheeks with a feather touch. She held him close and continued stroking his back as she sang, her beautiful melody gradually lifting the veteran from his nightmares.

"Biilllll…" She sang out his name, gently yet urging. "Biilll…"

Bill's eyes fluttered, slowly opening. The angel before him was still a vision of beauty, though she no longer had her wings. The war vet stared into the amber eyes of his gray goddess who was singing to him and stroking his back. She was prettier than any angel he could ever imagine.

The witch smiled at her waking companion, her melody reaching a gentle stop. She lovingly touched his face as his eyes adjusted to the bedroom lighting.

"A… a dream? It was all a… dream?" Bill said in a slightly hoarse voice. He was somewhat disoriented, not even remembering falling asleep. Everything seemed so vivid… so real…

So frightening.

He could swear it was more than just a dream.

But it didn't matter. Whatever it was, it was over, and for that he was thankful.

"Niightmare…" The witch repeated with much less difficulty, the word rolling off her tongue like bitter medicine.

Bill cocked an eyebrow. He never said nightmare, but for all intents and purposes the dream was just that, up until the last part anyway. He was surprised the witch knew he was dreaming and that it was unpleasant. It was remarkable how insightful she was.

The war vet's train of thought was rerouted as he noticed his lover's demeanor. She continued looking at him with concern. He must've been yelling out in his sleep or something; she seemed genuinely worried.

"I'm alright, sweetheart." Bill said absent mindedly before catching himself. He'd called her sweetheart, like in his dream.

She stared at him with a slight frown, not convinced.

"I'm ok, really." The war vet said firmly, doubting he could fool her. He certainly wasn't fooling himself.

The witch didn't believe him. She wanted to be _certain_, but she couldn't remember how to ask. Thinking for a moment, her memory recalled another word for confirming something so important.

"Prroommissee?" She asked, as though staring right through his mask of faux confidence.

Bill felt a cold sweat break on his forehead. This was more than coincidental. It was just like in the dream when he… wait… what was that dream about? The details were already fading away, like most dreams once the dreamer awakened. Suddenly all Bill could remember was something about having to leave her and everyone else, for the sake of their safety.

And of course, the horrifying moment when he thought he'd lost her forever.

"Yes… I promise," Bill said, dismissing the fading dream and holding one of her claws between his rough hands. It was still incredible to him that the witch's communication skills had progressed so rapidly.

The witch smiled and blushed, folding her claw around the war vet's warm hands as she leaned closer. "Biiilll…" she said softly, her limpid amber gaze meeting his stormy gray eyes. She was still stroking his back, her delicate touch sending a shiver of excitement up his spine.

"You know my name?" Bill asked.

The witch recognized the word "name" and drew away from him, pointing at herself in introduction.

"Erriss," she said.

"Eris? That's a rather chaotic name for someone so peaceful," Bill said with a chuckle. The gray goddess giggled, not catching the joke but happy to hear his laughter. Her eyes perked up suddenly as she remembered the outfit Zoey had picked out for her. She gently pulled away from him and stood up off the bed, eager to show off her new clothes.

Bill stared dumbfounded as Eris stood before him in her white sundress. Seeing his witchy woman naked was one thing; her body was nothing short of incredible. However, seeing her in clothes made her even more sexy and desirable, like a present just waiting to be unwrapped. Her hair had been washed and dried, the platinum tresses full and soft as they cascaded down her shoulders, the tips easily extending past her bosom. The gorgeous locks perfectly framed her face, still full and beautiful with soft cheeks, a delicate smile, and bright amber eyes. One thing Bill had noticed when awakening to her tender touch was the witch's eyes were not blank orbs like most of the infected he had encountered. Her eyes had a pupil, iris, and sclera; only the iris had changed to the amber color that appeared to glow from a distance. Up close he could see past the glow, staring straight into her being.

Unable to help himself, his eyes traveled south. He noticed the white sundress amplified her buxom frame, showing off a bit of her pretty cleavage, though tastefully. The entire dress was formfitting yet relaxed, hugging her delicate curves in all the right places.

_That dress… familiar…_

"You're…. beautiful," Bill said with a slack-jawed stare, unaware he had perfectly mirrored Zoey's words and expression when she admired the gray goddess.

Eris grinned ear to ear, spinning around to show off the rest of the dress. Her smooth gray back was partially exposed, the dress covering the bra clasp then opening again, exposing her lower back to just above her butt. The bottom of the dress fluttered up as she spun around, showing off her lace-covered treasures.

Bill swallowed hard, feeling the sheets around his lower half straining as a certain "soldier" reported for duty.

Eris cocked an eyebrow and smiled slyly, noticing her lover more than just approved of her new outfit. Bill was leaning back on his palms, his muscular chest heaving with every heated breath he drew. The war vet's flushed face and ravenous stare was as plain as day to the gray goddess. Her eyes traced down his body to the rather large bulge beneath the blanket he'd twisted around his waist.

Eris purred seductively, slowly approaching the bed and shrugging her shoulders, causing the straps of the dress to fall halfway down her arms. She pushed her breasts together with her arms, showing off even more of her already plentiful cleavage as the dress loosely hung onto her chest. She crawled onto the bed over to Bill, her large gray globes hanging down like ripe fruit, barely contained within the white lace bra.

She'd wanted this for what seemed like an eternity, even though it had only been since last night. However, this time it was different. There were no distractions, no awkward moments, no voyeur survivors, nothing.

It was just the two of them.

Eris lowered her head to the war vet's lap, taking the blanket between her teeth and pulling it away with a rather coy grin. She stared hungrily at her lover's saluting "soldier", very eager to pick up where she'd left off when Bill had passed out. However, before she could take him between her lips Bill stopped her, gently tugging her away from his lap to face him.

"Biilll?" Eris whispered questioningly, wondering why he stopped her. She sat up, straddling his lap and sitting against his now rock-hard manhood, her panties barely stopping Bill's throbbing erection from reaching her. Even with the cloth barrier she could feel the length of his manhood pressing against her white garden. Her panties were spotting with her own arousal as her body's entrance readied for him. As much as she wanted him inside her right now, she still wanted to please him the way he so generously pleased her from before. For some reason she didn't understand, he stopped her.

The war vet smiled and touched her cheek. "Eris… sweetheart," he said, his gentle voice causing her to blush. Hearing him say her name made her feel so shy. "Let's not rush this," Bill whispered, recalling the moment in his dream when he thought he'd lost her to the cruel hand of fate. "Let's enjoy every minute."

The witch nodded, smiling at her handsome soldier. Bill leaned into her, sharing a deep kiss as his arms wrapped around her lower back. Eris moaned softly, bringing her own arms around his shoulders as they kissed. It was just like she remembered; his kiss was firm yet gentle, exciting yet relaxing. Their fingers tenderly dug into each others backs, as though they simply could not get close enough to one another. The two lovers rubbed each other all over for several minutes as their tongues danced.

Their lips broke apart slowly, reluctantly. Eris leaned back with a sultry moan as Bill ran his hands under her dress, his fingers tickling and caressing her body. She raised her arms as her lover lifted the sundress up over her head. He smirked, tossing it aside as he admired her new undergarments. Eris placed her palms under her bosom in offering, lifting her breasts and pushing them together as the bra straps fell from her shoulders. Bill stared hungrily at her large gray globes beneath the white lace bra. He remembered the first time he tasted them; he'd practically ripped her clothes off to satisfy his lustful hunger. This time however, he was going to savor his "meal."

Bill spied the tops of her dark gray areolas peeking out from behind the cups of her bra as she held her bosom to him. He leaned down, pinching and rolling her nipple through the soft fabric with his lips. Back and forth he went between her breasts, showing his tender attention. The bra became wet from his oral admiration, but it was nothing compared to the wetness his lover's panties were trying to contain.

Eris moaned, her skin developing little gray goose bumps as her war hero teased her through the bra. She recalled briefly when Louis teased her, which did nothing more than frustrate her. In the end, their sex was more anger and raw lust than anything else, with no lingering afterglow. But when Bill teased her it only seemed to heighten her sexual anticipation, and she knew it would make their imminent lovemaking all the more intense and satisfying.

The gray goddess drew in a sharp breath as her man gently bit at her nipple still hidden beneath the bra. She placed a hand on his head, rubbing his hair as she pressed her lower half against his, gyrating her hips in slow circles. She smirked when Bill groaned and reflexively bucked his hips against hers. She figured teasing went both ways, and she was going to make the anticipation so intense that her lover would be unable to stop himself from throwing her down and making her his own. Frankly she hoped he would soon; she was beginning to lose her own resolve. Her rubbing on him was as intense as their first time, where she'd driven herself absolutely crazy.

Bill was so turned on, he was ready to eat his own words. He wasn't sure if it was her sexy clothes, her seductive mannerisms, the second wind from his "nap," or all of the above. All Bill knew was he was going to have a difficult time "not rushing this." He slid his palms down her sides, then back up her tummy, wriggling his fingers beneath her bra. With one quick motion he lifted the bra from beneath, watching it spring up as the tension from holding his lover's breasts was released. The witch cooed as the war vet squeezed her bare bosom, pressing her nipples together. He tenderly licked the gray buds, rubbing them on each other.

Eris moaned loudly, her eyes rolling into the back of her head. She was having a difficult time even sitting up at this point. Between Bill's oral ministrations and his hardness rubbing her opening, she was becoming light-headed.

"Mmmm… mmoooorreee…." She moaned, dragging her claws lightly over Bill's back.

The war vet stopped for a moment, tenderly kissing up her chest to the nape of her neck.

"More?" He whispered teasingly, nibbling at her ear.

Eris groaned, her chest heaving with every thud of her racing heart. She was dying for his touch, so much that she was ready to explode. She _needed_ him, but how to ask for it? Searching her memory, another word came forth. She brought her claws to his head, gently pulling him away from her neck to face her.

"Pllleeasssee… moorree," she half whispered, pouting out her lower lip.

The war vet swallowed hard; there was no way he could say no to that. Her pouty look was so cute yet so sexy. Bill kissed back down her body, returning his attention to her tender breasts. He pressed the gray globes together again and sucked both her nipples into his mouth at once. Eris was panting now, her heartbeat thudding against Bill's chest as he loved her. The war vet kept one hand behind her back while he slid the other down between their undulating bodies. His fingers found her moist treasures, rubbing her through the soaked barrier of her panties.

It was as though he'd flipped a switch.

The witch cried out and fell onto her back, pulling her lover with her as he continued suckling and rubbing her. Bill hovered over her as he continued to savor her womanly charms, his length dangling over her like the Sword of Damocles. She slid one of her claws between their bodies, tenderly grasping his manhood and sliding up and down its rigid length. Bill growled, suckling harder as she stroked him.

"Biilll… pllleeaase," she whimpered as she fondled him, begging for it.

The war vet ceased his rubbing and suckling, bringing his hands behind her back. The witch purred as he undid her bra, sliding it up over her arms as he sat up and kneeled between her legs. He took a moment to stare at her, laying before him in nothing but her soaked panties. Her soft white hair splayed about her head, her chest was heaving, her forehead dotted with sweat, and her lips glistening as she ran her tongue over them. Her amber eyes were aglow with the fire of passion.

Bill had never seen a woman more turned on in his life.

Still, he could make things hotter.

He ran his palms beneath her breasts, then onto her sides, kissing down her taut gray tummy. His lips brushed at the waistband of her lace panties, her womanly scent filling his nostrils and causing his manhood to throb even harder. He slid his fingers into the delicate cotton covering her hips, slowly dragging the soaked undergarment down her supple thighs, exposing her mound, matted with her own liquid heat. His lover smiled, bending her legs to assist him in removing her panties. She brought her knees to her chest as he rolled the panties over her calves and ankles, tossing them aside. Bill salivated as he stared at the underside of her thighs, which perfectly framed the engorged lips beneath her pure white garden. He remembered their first night when he'd tried to undress her with some difficulty; she'd been clueless to his intentions. Now with her humanity returning, she was more than eager to comply with whatever he wanted.

Bill hovered over her, the tip of his manhood tracing gentle circles around her entrance. Eris wrapped her legs around him, her feet tugging at his lower back, urging him forward. Bill hesitated, savoring every moment before he would be one with her again. His head was just barely within her parted lips, the tip nudging gently at her love button.

Eris couldn't take it anymore. She planted both her feet aside her lover with her knees pointing to the ceiling, then placed her palms aside her head, her elbows pointing to the air as though she were about to do a crabwalk. With one motion she lifted herself up, arching her back like a covered bridge while lifting her ass in the air. Her sudden change in position brought her lover's teasing to a sudden, satisfying end for both of them.

Hot…tight… euphoric… wonderful…

Such were the thoughts shared between both lovers as they became one, once more.

Bill groaned as he penetrated her completely to the hilt, her muscles clenching around his large invader. Eris sucked in a heated breath, swearing she could feel Bill's manhood pushing at her cervix. It hurt only for a moment; their coupling was sudden for both of them.

Survivor and Infected took heated breaths as the fire ignited within them both, their eyes locking in understanding. Though they both had feelings greater than mere lust for each other, the basic needs of sexual satisfaction were fueling the blaze within them. They cared for each other deeply, but they'd waited too long for this to be simple, gentle lovemaking.

For now, this was about wild, raw, unchecked _sex_.

The witch began wantonly pushing into her war vet, who in turn grabbed her ass, squeezing the soft gray cheeks as he slammed into her. Bill grunted as he thrust into her, staring at her firm tummy, the muscles flexing as she squeezed around him. He had to avert his gaze, the sight was turning him on something awful and if he wasn't careful this would be over sooner than he'd liked.

Eris' entire body was hot. Her nipples felt so hard, they could cut glass. Though Bill's member was huge to her at first, she was so wet that her body had adjusted to his length and girth rather quickly. She enjoyed the slight pain that came with their sex; the feeling of fullness with him inside her. Now it felt like she simply couldn't get enough of him.

"Mmmooorrree…" she moaned, tilting her head up to stare at him. Bill pounded her harder and faster, bringing out cries of surprise from his gray goddess as he poked at her very womb. He worried about hurting her, but his lover was pushing back on him harder. In a way he understood. When he first penetrated her, she clenched around him so tight it was as though his cock was in a hot wet vice. That in of itself hurt a little, but the pain seemed to amplify the pleasure of their coupling.

Bill slammed into her harder, throwing his weight into it, his fingernails digging into the soft flesh of her ass as he squeezed her. Eris' cries were coming out in interrupted gasps as every thrust shook her diaphragm. She was having a hard time holding herself up like this against her soldier's intense pounding, but she didn't want to stop.

Eventually it was too much, even for her strengthened body. With a cry, Eris fell off her hands and feet, landing on her back. Bill slipped from her, his manhood throbbing and glistening with her liquid passion. He stared at her with worry, wondering if he'd hurt her with his relentless pounding. Eris smiled at him, flattered that he was so concerned about her.

"Biill… moooreee… plleeassee," The witch purred, beckoning him with one claw in the classic "come hither" gesture. The war vet breathed a sigh of relief as he stared down at his sweaty sexy gray goddess. If she wanted more, then by God he was going to give it to her.

Eris yelped and giggled as Bill growled playfully, pouncing on his witchy woman. He ran his hands under her thighs, pushing her legs up until her ankles were by her head. She licked her lips, her lover's sudden dominance turning her on even more, if that were possible. Bill hovered over her with his hands by her head, her feet pinned down by his broad shoulders. He was balancing on his toes as though he were doing pushups. He slid his length into her engorged wet lips once more, both of them shuddering with excitement.

The gray goddess ran her palms over the war vet's chest, then squeezed at his muscular arms as he began pounding her right into the bed. The war vet grunted as he jack-hammered into his lover, who in turn was crying out with every breath. The two people, now one, stared deeply into each others' eyes, their hearts racing together like two cars neck and neck on the final stretch. Their faces, only an inch apart, were dotted with sweat. Both of them were panting and grunting as they coupled, their eyes locked as they looked into each other's souls.

Eris was already nearing the top, her man seemed to know her inside and out. However, the witch felt something other than sexual tension building within her as she stared at her lover. She ran her palms to Bill's face, cupping his cheeks as though he were surreal and could disappear at any moment. What was this new sensation? It felt incredible like their first time, though it wasn't merely sexual. She was so happy to have him yet so afraid of losing him. She'd never felt like this. Everything that had transpired between her and the other survivors seemed empty when compared to her lover. While she still cared for all of them dearly, the feelings she had for Bill were indescribable. The man atop her was all she wanted… all she needed. He smiled at her, and her heart felt like it would burst from her chest. She smiled back as tears ran down her cheeks. Why was she crying? She wasn't sad and yet this time crying felt so right.

Bill was approaching the peak; he couldn't believe he'd lasted this long. Despite his excellent physical condition, he was well aware of his age and the limitations that came with it. He was screwing his gray goddess with the energy and passion of a 20 year old, and for all intents and purposes he should have been short of breath or felt pain in his joints. But there was no fatigue, no pain, just the pleasure of being with his lover. His witchy woman brought her palms to his face, touching him as though he were a dream, a dream come true. Bill thought of his disappointment when she'd left the safe room, his rage when she was attacked, even his jealousy when seeing her intimate with the other survivors. He was so afraid of losing her in any capacity, but fear was unwelcome company in this zombie apocalypse. Fear got a man killed, so he pushed his feelings aside, making whatever excuse he could to himself to justify his safe distancing.

As Bill's steel eyes met Eris' amber gaze he smiled at her, genuinely happy they were together again. He was surprised to see tears of happiness flooding from her eyes. He'd have to be blind not to see the look plainly written across her now tear-streaked, smiling face. The old soldier finally realized what he'd been trying to deny all along.

The two lovers kissed as though they'd been separated for a lifetime. Like a lightning strike, the shocking revelation hit them both simultaneously.

They were falling in love.

Eris broke the kiss and pressed her palms against Bill's chest, lifting him off her so she could move her legs down. Though he was as deep inside her as he could be, she wanted _all _of him to be as close as possible to her. She hooked her ankles around his butt and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into her as he continued thrusting faster still.

Bill slid his arms under her back and gripped at her shoulders as he thrust into her. The tempo increased as their lovemaking reached its crescendo. Eris panted hard, calling out her pleasure over and over.

"Yeeess… yeess.. yess… Biill… yes.. yes.. yes!" Eris moaned in Bill's ear, their moment arriving. Bill grunted louder, his volcano ready to explode.

"Aaaaggghhh!"" They cried out together, their liquid passion mixing and flooding out between them. Their muscles clenched as their bodies trembled. Bill gripped Eris' shoulders as hard as he could, holding himself as deep inside her as he could while she pulled at him with her legs, making sure every bit of his release was within her.

The two lovers kissed again, savoring in the afterglow. Eris giggled just like the first time, her cheeks wet with her tears. Bill chuckled and tenderly wiped her face with his fingers, staring in wonderment at his lover.

"That was… incredible," Bill stammered out between breaths.

"Thaannnk yoouu… Biilll," Eris whispered as she tenderly stroked his back.

"No… thank you, Eris," Bill said softly as they kissed again. The two lovers lay there in each other's arms for a while, kissing and simply enjoying each other's presence.

Eventually, Eris felt the familiar tingle between her legs began to build once more. She trembled, pressing herself against her lover. Bill felt her rock hard nipples poking at his chest, and even after such an incredible shared orgasm, he could feel himself stirring within her again.

Eris grinned knowingly and moved out from under him, feeling his hardening length slipping from her. She slowly crawled away on the bed, wiggling her butt before stopping and looking over her shoulder, smiling coyly.

Bill chuckled, "We really should get dressed, the others are probably waiting on us."

Eris simply purred, staring at her love with one eyebrow arched as she gripped at the bed with her claws, pushing her gray heart-shaped rear in the air.

"They can wait." Bill said with a smirk as the second wind blew in his direction.

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* * *

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"Is anyone there? Please respond," Louis said into the radio's microphone as he continued checking the various frequencies. He'd been trying for the last half hour hoping to find someone alive over the radio waves. Francis was sitting behind Zoey on the couch, showing her how to clean her hunting rifle; he and Louis had already cleaned their M-16's in the first hour.

"It was fortunate we found all these gun cleaning supplies," Zoey said with a slight giggle as Francis' hand covered hers, guiding it along the barrel of her hunting rifle.

"Yeah, too bad there wasn't a huge gun collection to go with it," Francis said somewhat dejected, sitting close behind the college student as he assisted her. "I swear whoever owned this place had enough gun accessories to go with a small armory. Those weapons have to be around here somewhere."

"They were probably all snatched up by whoever was here before us," Louis said absently as he continued scanning the frequencies for a response.

The three survivors froze at the muffled sound of Eris crying out in ecstasy again.

"Wow, how long have they been at it?" Francis asked, staring at the ceiling.

"I'd say at least two hours," Louis said.

Zoey chuckled and shook her head, "It's a good thing we're not on any sort of time table, otherwise…"

CRACK! KA-BOOM!

The three survivors jumped at the sound of a loud crack of thunder close by, then froze as the collective cry of the horde echoed from outside.

"Oh shit!" Louis mumbled.

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A/N: Do I even have to ask? :-) Make me smile everyone!


	7. FlyIn Movie

_**Legal Disclaimer: All characters, with the exception of Eris, are property of Valve. The main zombie apocalypse plot is Valve's too, but this story sub plot is mine. I no likey people who plagiarize. Plagiarists lie, and lies make baby Jesus cry.**_

_Mature Content Warning: This story contains sexual themes and should not be read by those under 18. Of course, if you are underage and you're already this far, it just goes to show how much you pay attention to warnings. You're probably the same kid who sat too close to the TV or stuck forks in the electrical outlets or ate lead paint chips._

Author's Notes: Whew. Sorry this took chapter took so long. Things in my life are picking up speed again, so updates may take a little longer. However, I want all my fans to know that I always finish what I start, so don't think this story will ever be left incomplete. Thanks again to everyone who's reviewed and praised this story. Good things come to those who wait, but you've waited long enough. On with the show.

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Chapter 7 – Fly-In Movie

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The thunder clap had attracted another horde which clawed and pounded at the safe room door. Louis rushed the door with his rifle, but the unwanted company wasn't his concern. After mowing down a line of the crazed zombies, he got a good look at the sky. Several hours had passed and it was approaching the late afternoon, but the sky was covered in a blanket of very dark storm clouds.

"You had to say something about having plenty of time didn't you Zoey?" Louis said half-joking, half-stressed as he raced back to the radio, trying more frequencies.

"What's got your undies in a bunch? It's just thunder," Francis said, a little dejected now that Zoey was cleaning her rifle on her own without his help.

"Francis, that generator doesn't have enough fuel to hold out for longer than a few more hours. We can't stay here. And with a storm coming any sort of rescue would be next to impossible once the rain arrives! And judging by sky, it could be less than an hour!" Louis said, frantically trying more frequencies.

Zoey and Francis stared in shock. Neither of them had thought of that.

"Is anyone out there? Please respond!" Louis half yelled, trying more frequencies.

"Hello? Hello? This is US Army evacuation station number 11-18-08. Who is this?" A foreign voice answered back on the radio.

"YES!" Louis cheered. "My name's Louis, and there's five of us here! We need immediate evac-"

"Where is 'here'?" The military voice responded curtly.

"Oh sorry. We're in a large cabin in the Pennsylvania woods… uuhh…" Louis paused looking over the map he'd found, scanning for the latitude and longitude coordinates. "At the following coordinates," the systems analyst said, reading back the numbers.

"Roger that survivors," the radio voice responded, "Now listen up! The only evac out of that area is by helicopter and our radar shows a big storm heading your way. It's going to take us about thirty minutes to get there, but you're going to have to wait from the roof; we're just barely going to beat this storm. So double time it up there and find some way to signal the pilot when you hear him, a flare gun, flashlights, hell even firecrackers if that's what it takes. There's no clearing in your area large enough for us to land, so a rooftop rescue is the only way. Good luck, and Godspeed."

"Thank you sir! We'll be waiting!" Louis said excitedly as he ended the transmission. "Guys we're gonna make it!" The systems analyst said to his fellow survivors, who were just as excited.

"Zoey you should go get 'lover-gramps' and his girlfriend. We need to get ready." Francis said, turning his gaze towards the stairs.

"Sure. Finish cleaning this for me would you?" Zoey said with a smile, pushing her rifle into the biker's gloved hands. Francis grinned as Zoey hurried up stairs with an excited giggle. He hated seeing her go, but he loved watching her leave.

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* * *

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Bill and Eris collapsed in a tangled mess with their arms and legs entwined together, the bed sheets wrapped around them but not really covering much of anything. The two lovers were gasping and panting, both of them having run through nearly every sexual position Bill had ever known, along with some surprising and creative new ones that tested just how limber his old body could be. If there was one thing that could be said about his gray goddess, it was that she was a demon in the sack. The war vet held his satisfied and content lover, running one hand through her long platinum locks as he rubbed her back.

Eris breathed a deep sigh and laid her head on Bill's chest, lazily tracing one of her claws up and down his taut stomach. She never felt happier than when she was in his arms. Every moment they'd shared together had been more intense than the one before. The negative emotional effects the virus had on her mind were long gone, having been washed away with every wave of love and tenderness that she'd shared with him since their first meeting. And with a clear mind, her cognitive memory was even closer to being completely repaired. Her communication had improved dramatically.

Even as her mind recalled more words, there were only three she really wanted to say. The first thing on the tip of her tongue was her heart.

"Biiillll…" she whispered, looking up at him.

"Yeah sweetheart?" He whispered back, getting lost in her amber eyes.

"Ahh… aahhheeeeyyee…" she struggled, the words clear in her mind but not so easy for her to speak. "eeeyyyeee… llooovveee… yyooou."

The war veteran smiled, no longer surprised at the witch's renewed verbal cognition. Though he was no doctor, he could figure out why her humanity was slowly coming back. Together, the heart and mind could overcome anything.

"I love you too Eris." He said, stroking her back. Saying that felt so… right.

She smiled at him, scooting up so they could be face to face. They moved closer, their lips about to meet once more.

WHAM! The two lovers sat up in surprise as the bedroom door flung open.

"Bill! Eris!" Zoey almost shouted as she interrupted the pair, the momentary excitement causing her to lose all sense of manners as far as knocking before entering a closed bedroom. She stopped dead when she saw the two of them still nude, though why that surprised her was confusing; it wasn't like she didn't know what they'd been up to for the last two hours. The bed sheet was twisted up, barely covering the witch's supple rear, the rest of the sheet partially draped over the war vet's lap, only half hiding his manhood.

Bill's steel gray eyes seemed to pierce Zoey's baby blues like twin daggers, cutting off her sentence. "Ah… yeah I… uh… sorry Bill, but…" Zoey stammered out, her face developing a bright red blush. Even though she'd seen both of them naked before, the sight of the war vet's "weapon" half poking out from under the sheets caught the college girl's attention. Eris glared at her, annoyed that she'd interrupted their moment.

"Is the cabin on fire?" Bill sighed.

"Huh?" Zoey said absently, staring at Bill's crotch. Eris placed one claw protectively over his manhood, eyeing Zoey with jealousy. "Ah... no, but we need to get going… there's a storm coming and we have a ride out of here." Zoey said, the obstructed view snapping her out of her gawking stare.

"Give us five minutes to get dressed." Bill said with gentle authority.

Zoey nodded and stood there quietly, an awkward silence filling the room.

"…alone." Bill added.

"Oh… sure. Sorry." Zoey stammered before hastily turning for the door. The embarrassed girl half ran into the door frame trying to get out fast enough.

Bill chuckled and Eris brought one clawed hand to her lips, suppressing a giggle of her own.

"Now where were we?" Bill asked his witchy woman, who returned a confused stare. "Oh that's right. We were right about here…" Bill leaned into his surprised lover, stealing a kiss from her soft gray lips. Eris' muffled gasp turned to a moan as she held him tight. Neither of them wanted this to end, but unfortunately they had a ride they simply could not miss.

The pair reluctantly detangled themselves from the bed sheets and each other. Bill searched the dresser drawers, fortunate to find a t-shirt his size to replace the one his lover ripped from the night before. As Bill finished fastening his pants, he noticed Eris standing by her clothes, attempting to pull up her panties but having difficulty grabbing them. She clearly lacked the dexterity to dress herself.

Bill assisted Eris in putting on her clothes, taking his time to tease her and kiss all over her body. He kissed up her legs as he pulled her white cotton panties up over her calves, then her thighs, stopping to kiss just below her navel as he pulled them into place, watching fresh goose bumps run up and down her gray skin. The brassiere was next, and the war vet struggled a little as he fastened it behind her back. He was used to removing bras, not fastening them. He tenderly kissed beneath her ear as he finally fitted the bra over her globes.

Bill finished up as brought her sundress back over her head, helping her slip her arms through the sleeveless straps. The couple stood face to face, the war vet clasping the witch's claws in his hands. Eris giggled like a lovesick school girl, her eyes as bright as the sun on a spring day. Bill eyed her up and down as she turned away shyly, blushing from his amorous stare. If it weren't for the fact they were on a time limit, he'd be ready to undress her all over again.

After sharing one more lingering kiss, the pair made their way downstairs to find the three survivors locked and loaded.

"Here you go Bill, ready for action," Louis said as he handed the war vet his cleaned M16.

"Thanks Louis," Bill said, picking up his jacket from the floor and putting it on. He felt a slight draft where the hunter's claws had ripped through it, but it was still better than nothing. Better two holes in his jacket than two holes in his lovers back.

Zoey, having regained her composure from earlier, gave the witch an apologetic smile. The witch smiled back while gently hugging on Bill's arm, as though the two women could read each other's thoughts. Zoey could sense the aura about the two lovers, her own heart fluttering in excitement. _"They're in love."_ She thought excitedly; then with a little dissapointment. _"So much for sharing. "When it comes to love, the heart gives all only to one."_

"So what's the current status?" Bill asked, all business now that he was ready for combat.

"We have a chopper on the way with a storm right behind it." Louis said. "ETA is about 30 minutes, but the only place they can pick us up is the roof, and we'll need to send up a signal when we hear them."

"Alright people let's get a move on. There's probably an attic entrance or second floor balcony where we can access the roof." Bill said.

The group headed back upstairs, searching the numerous rooms for supplies and any sort of pull-down stairs. The cabin was huge, the second floor easily able to house at least six people on its own. Eventually they reached the end of the hallway, where they found a closed pull-down set of stairs. The pull cord was missing; it looked as though it had been deliberately cut.

"Well that's just great," Francis grumbled. The group stared at the closed staircase with frustration. The panel was flush with the ceiling, and although it was only eight feet above them, the strong springs that kept the stairs in place made it impossible to pull them down without some sort of rope or leverage.

Bill turned his gaze back down the hall. "Looks like we're going to have to find anoth-"

A loud cracking sound interrupted the war veteran. Eris casually reached up and shoved her claw into the false panel, pulling the staircase down with her own make shift "handle."

The four survivors stared blankly.

"Your girlfriend sure is full of surprises," Francis said to Bill. Eris sneezed a couple times, attempting to wipe some of the errant white dust from her face with the back of her claw.

"Not to mention cute as all hell," Zoey said with a big smile, suppressing the urge to squeeze Eris in a hug. She used the sleeve of her pink sweat shirt to wipe the dust from the witch's face. Eris blushed, feeling the eyes of all four survivors upon her in admiration.

The group made their way into the attic. It was surprisingly cramped, especially for the size of the cabin. The roof at its peak was barely three feet above the attic, leaving little room to store anything, let alone crawl around.

"Strange. You'd think a place this big would have a high-peaked roof." Zoey said, thinking of some of the cabins she'd stayed in during some of her ski trips to the Poconos.

"It's a good thing it doesn't." Louis noted, spying an attic vent above them, pushing at it with his palms. "It'd be a lot harder for us… rrggh…to keep our balance on a steep… roof!... Gaah!" The systems analyst grunted, giving one more hard shove, sending the stubborn vent flying open.

The group climbed up onto the roof which was almost completely flat, save a very slight peak near the center that extended to the left and right edges of the house. The sky above them was a dark and tumultuous, as though the heavens could open up with a downpour at any minute. The late afternoon sun was completely blocked out by the thick blanket of storm clouds that seemed to span endlessly in all directions.

The five looked around, taking in the view. The river was about twenty feet away from the back of the house, the water gently lapping against the wooden dock leading from the cabin. It was the only side of the cabin that wasn't enclosed by the vast forest. Some of the taller pine trees easily surpassed the height of the house, though the closest tree was about ten feet away. The rustling of the trees came and went with the intermittent gusts of wind, the harbinger of the approaching storm.

Zoey spied a man sitting in a reclined fold-out lawn chair near the edge of the roof facing the river. His back was to the group, a rather large rifle lazily tucked against his right shoulder.

"Hello?" Zoey said in a half whisper. The only response was the howling of the wind, an errant gust ruffling the sitting man's short black hair.

The five approached the solitary watcher, who continued to sit still. As the group surrounded the lone gunman, a collective gasp escaped their lips.

"Oh… dear God," Louis mumbled before quickly turning away and nearly vomiting the bile in his stomach. The other survivors looked on in morbid disgust. The man's eyes were frozen open in a look of horror, but his nose and most of his mouth were completely gone, save for part of his lower jaw. It was as though something had bit into his face like an apple. His clothing was ripped and bloodstained, numerous large gouge marks adorned his arms, chest, and legs. His stomach was split open to his groin, a mess of intestines lay in a pile between his legs.

"Disemboweled," Bill said quietly, scrunching his nose at the smell of decay. "Something tells me he was alive when this happened, and whatever did it likely bit off his face to stop him from screaming." He turned, finding only Eris by his side, the other three survivors apparently unable to stomach the sight.

"Looks like this guy was preparing to make a final stand," Bill continued, more to himself than anyone else. The ammo pile near him was mostly untouched, along with several closed coolers emitting a slight rancid smell. The fallen survivor certainly was armed to the teeth. Leaning on his right shoulder was an H&K modified military sniper rifle. A katana sword was to his left, still in its sheath, and a 50 caliber magnum pistol lay on his leg, his left hand loosely folded around the handle. Several large "ephedrine" needles, most of them unused, were scattered about.

"I don't even want to think about what did that," Louis said off to the side, trying to keep from vomiting. Zoey had joined him, gently rubbing his back to help keep him bile down. Francis decided to check out the mini canon, looking for any excuse to stay away from the rotting corpse without admitting it made even his tough stomach churn.

"Check this out, a mobile mini-cannon!" Francis said, standing near the back edge of the house, about 20 feet from where the dead man lay. Unfortunately, the stand the mini-cannon should've been mounted on was snapped in half. Francis grunted as he attempted to hoist the large gun up by its large transport handles. The biker strained, his face turning red as he attempted to lift the large gun.

"Francis, do your back a favor and don't bother trying to pick that thing up," the war vet said to the biker as he strained, barely lifting the mini-cannon a foot off the ground.

"What? I almost had it," Francis said with a loud huff as he dropped the gun.

"Uh huh, and how exactly were you gonna fire that big-ass gun when you can barely lift it up?" Louis said, his stomach finally having settled down. "You'd need two people at least to use that thing without a mount, and one of them would have to be damn strong to hold that gun up and resist the recoil."

"Kill joy," Francis muttered, rubbing his lower back. Eris stared at the frustrated biker and the large war weapon in curiosity.

"Everyone, grab some of these adrenaline shots," Bill said, handing the needles to the three survivors. He kept a few of the extras, stuffing them into his cargo pockets. No telling when those would come in handy.

"Oh my God!" Zoey gasped, her jaw slack as she stared at the dead man in his chair. Francis looked at the college girl confused, she'd already seen the mutilated body and she didn't seem too aghast then. Maybe it was just shock that delayed her reaction?

"Hey, it's ok," Francis said, patting her shoulder. "He was just unlucky, but-"

Zoey shoved the biker's hand from her shoulder and scrambled to grab the military sniper rifle in the dead man's arms. She pulled her hunting rifle from her shoulder strap and cast it aside like yesterday's garbage.

"Ooohhh. Now this is what I'm talking about! A Heckler & Koch MSG90A1 modified military sniper rifle!" The college student said, her tone landing somewhere between excited and aroused as she looked through the scope. Francis grumbled a little that the college girl tossed aside the weapon he'd finished cleaning for her.

"Methinks I'll ditch these pistols for this katana, too," she said with a giggle, removing the deadly blade.

"Better be careful you don't poke your eye out," Francis said dryly.

Zoey smirked, and suddenly her sword became a silver blur as she sliced the air, pulling a complex triple swipe maneuver straight out of a Bruce Lee movie. The rest of the group stared slack jawed at her lightning-fast moves.

"I took a sword techniques class as one of my college electives," she said, blowing a bit of her loose hair from her face. "Now I get to see if that A minus I got should've been an A _plus_."

"Look at this!" Francis said, snatching the rather large handgun from the dead man's lap. The biker grinned sadistically, staring at the barrel of a .50 caliber magnum pistol.

Bill felt a shiver pass through his body. A sudden and frightening mental image passed through the war vet's mind of Zoey and Francis making a stand on a rising bridge unloading their new found weapons on some unseen enemy below.

_What the hell? When did…_

His thought was interrupted when his lover left his side. Eris cautiously approached the edge of the roof at the front of the house, a strange rumbling noise attracting her attention. She held in a surprised gasp at the sight below.

"What's wrong?" Bill asked as he joined her, peering over.

His jaw fell open. If he'd been smoking, his cigarette would've been snatched away by the billowing winds. Below, along the edge of the house and seeming to circle around the entire cabin were _hundreds_ of infected. The huge collective mass was like a dormant crowd at the opening of a rock concert. Several pairs of common infected were engaged in one-on-one fist fights, some shambled about aimlessly, a few were vomiting and leaning against other infected, while others simply stood or sat, looking exhausted.

"Mother of mercy…" Francis whispered as he and the others joined the pair. "Where the _hell _did all those bastards all come from?"

"Probably that thunderclap we heard earlier," Louis whispered back. "We should be fine, so long as nothing-"

CRACK! KA-BOOM!

Another lighting bolt struck close by lighting up the darkening sky, the following thunder clap sounding louder than artillery fire. The entire moving mass below seemed to freeze, staring up at the five stranded prey on the house.

"Shit," Zoey muttered flatly.

The collective cry of the horde answered, signaling the call to battle.

The mob swarmed the front of the house like bees returning to a hive. The closer ones began scaling the house with surprising speed, climbing the walls and drainpipes like squirrels up a tree. Several of the common zombies in front were getting squished as those behind them pushed and shoved to reach their prey. More of the crazed infected were running from out of the woods, adding to the mass of death that was overtaking the house.

"If anyone has a pipe bomb, this would be the time," Bill said as he and his comrades began taking pot shots as the commons who were already halfway up. The war vet was worried, if it was this bad by the front, he could only imagine the rabble scaling the sides and the back of the house. If they didn't come up with a plan, they were going to be overwhelmed in no time.

Francis took aim with his new side arm at a line of commons climbing up in a single file. The first time the gun discharged, the biker nearly fell backward on his ass. His shot tore through the entire group, the head of the first unlucky soul exploding into a red mess. The bodies fell like dominoes, knocking down several others around them trying to climb the wall.

"Holy shit I'm in love," Francis laughed over the roar of the mob as he braced himself and continued unloading the deadly hand-cannon. He couldn't fire it nearly as fast as the 9mm pistol and the magnum had only half the clip capacity, but each piercing shot was five times more deadly.

Zoey scanned the trees with her new toy, hearing the ominous coughing of a smoker. The green aura was moving from tree to tree with surprising speed towards the left side of the roof.

"_Breathe in, breathe out, then..." _she thought as she pulled the trigger.

BANG!

The rifle round ripped through the skull of the smoker, exploding the lanky infected sniper in a cloud of greenish black smoke, obscuring Zoey's view through the scope.

"_That smoker was faster than a typical one," _she thought to herself. _"Almost as if…" _Suddenly a fleshy noose wrapped around her neck, choking her and dragging her to the edge of the roof.

"Smoker's got Zoey!" Louis yelled, preparing to blast the sniping infected with a few rounds from his rifle, but Eris was faster. She lunged forward, quickly slashing the tongue before it could pull Zoey from the edge of the roof. The witch growled and yanked hard on the sliced tongue, causing its owner to screech and fall from the tree into a headfirst dive.

"Gahh… thanks Eris." Zoey coughed as she removed the rest of the fleshy noose from her neck. "Fuck there was two at once! I've never seen that!" Zoey yelled as she and Eris helped mow down more of the climbing infected.

"There's so many, I wouldn't be surprised to see pairs of other infected," Louis said, concentrating as he and Bill kept the main wave back. "Watch our backs, they're sure to climb-"

"Bit late for that," Francis said, turning around at the sound of jabbering insanity as he readied his auto-shotgun. Crowds of common infected were clambering onto the roof from the other three sides, nearly tripping over each other to rush the small group. Zoey drew her sword and took an offensive stance, while Eris flickered her claws with a low growl, as if tempting the commoners to go toe to toe with her. Bill and Louis concentrated their fire in front, keeping the horde at bay with their M16's.

Francis ran towards the ammo pile and guarded the rear of the house. Several zombies near the back were the first to meet their doom, the biker's auto shotgun's bursts sending them flying off the roof, taking others who were trying to climb with them.

"You want me, come get me you bastards!" Zoey taunted as she slashed at the wave of zombies closing in on her. She removed the heads of four with her first swipe, following up to punch another common in the face with the hilt of the sword before he could grab at her throat. She parried another zombie about to flank her, quickly stabbing behind herself and catching him in the gut as he stumbled past. More were coming in to fill their fallen brethrens' places, but Zoey wielded the katana like an extension of her arm.

Eris howled angrily as the zombies rushed towards her. The common infected were actually focused on the college student behind her, who was barely holding her own against the growing mob. The witch outstretched her arms and held her claws parallel to the roof as she waited for her moment to strike. With one quick swoop she brought her claws together, decapitating the first wave that attempted to get past her, the blood spray spattering across her pretty face like war paint. One straggler missed her deadly swipe, instead getting a mule's kick to the midsection from the angry witch. The commoner flew off the roof with a scream, bowling over a few more who were just reaching the rooftop.

More commons were swarming onto the roof, the odds slowly beginning to fall from favor of the survivors. Francis found himself cracking more commoners away with the butt of his shotgun than he'd liked, the conditions becoming a little too crowded even for him. Bill and Louis also found themselves stomping the fingers of several zombies who were already about to clamber onto the rooftop. The two survivors backed away from the edge, Bill using controlled bursts to pop the heads of individual zombies, while Louis simply waved his rifle back and forth with the trigger held, preferring to let God sort the mess out.

Zoey grunted and wiped infected blood from her face as she backpedaled away from the pile of headless zombies falling around her. She continued slicing the rushing mobs with cat-like grace, but it was getting more difficult to hold them back; she'd already been punched and kicked more than a few times. Eris continued slashing and stabbing the commoners who attempted to rush past her, backpedaling as well to try and catch the increasing numbers that were escaping her reach.

As another wave was finally subdued, the witch and the college girl found themselves nearly back to back. Their shoulders touched, and both turned in surprise. The clang of Zoey's katana and Eris' claws echoed over the roof top as they stood toe to toe, both of them mistaking each other for the enemy. They breathed a sigh of relief, lowering their weapons.

"Wow. If we weren't fighting for our lives, I'd say that was pretty hot," Francis said with a chuckle, taking the momentary reprieve to reload his auto shotgun.

"Perv," the two women said simultaneously.

The survivors took a moment to gather ammo and catch their breath near the destroyed mini cannon. Eris watched Bill use his first aid kit on Zoey, her swordplay not leaving her completely unscathed. Francis, not feeling battered enough to use a first aid kit took his adrenaline shot instead, feeling the rush flow through him as he loaded his shotgun. As if on cue, another horde cry echoed over the sky as even more zombies seemed to clamber up from all sides at once.

"Here they come!" Bill yelled. Eris stared at the survivors with worry. All of them were battered and bruised, and the zombies just kept coming. She knew they wouldn't be able to hold off her infected brethren forever, but if this was meant to be the last stand, she would fight to the death along with them. She growled, flexed her claws in anticipation of the next wave, until something else caught her attention. The wheels in her head began turning.

She understood that the men in the group seemed to have a better chance keeping the mob at a safe distance with their weapons.

Francis was blasting a group of zombies near the rear edge of the roof, but the masses swarming from the other three sides would be on them in moments. "We need more firepower! If only we could use that mini-cannon."

"Biiilll…" Eris said with a slight strain in her voice. The survivors turned to see the gray goddess hoisting the huge, heavy war weapon in front of her as though it was just a sack of potatoes, her enhanced strength easily three times that of the strongest human. Despite her large claws, she'd managed to slide her hands through the large transport handles.

"Christ," Francis muttered. It'd taken nearly everything he had just to lift the mini-cannon off the roof, and here the witch was holding it like a big toy water gun.

Bill ran to her side, taking his position by the back of the mini-cannon. The way the witch was holding it close to her body, put her and the war vet nearly cheek to cheek. "Hang on tight sweetheart," he said, hoping the sheer recoil wouldn't send them both flying off the roof.

The steel-eyed veteran held his breath, and pulled the trigger.

The mini-cannon let fly with a loud roar of lead death. The recoil surprised Eris at first, but she recovered quickly, placing one leg back as she growled and braced herself against the recoil. The other three survivors kept the flanks and back clear, while Bill and Eris moved the cannon back and forth, mowing down the charging commons like grass blades under a mower. Common infected were ripped apart, body parts falling off the roof like a shower of gore, but more still flooded onto the roof, the sheer mass pushing the line towards the five.

Zoey sniped more smokers from the surrounding tree line that tried to break up the group, while Francis and Louis were busy holding off the tidal wave of commons from the rear. A boomer climbed up the back of the house, attempting to vomit the horde-attracting bile, but Louis was faster, kicking the bloated infected in his fat face, knocking him off the house. A smirk drew across his dark lips as the boomer exploded on impact with the ground, staggering another group of commons. Francis heard the tell-tale screech of a hunter who'd climbed a tree to one side. He turned just in time to see the infected leaper made a high arcing jump to his position. The burly biker held his stance, his tattooed muscled arms flexing rhythmically.

"_Wait for it… wait for it…" _he thought to himself.

"_NOW!"_

WHACK! The biker lurched forward, dead-stopping the hunter's deadly pounce, the butt of his shotgun connecting with his attacker's face. The hooded freak yelped, stunned from the hard smack to his head. He stumbled to the edge of the roof, falling off with an almost comical screech followed by a sickening thud as the ground broke his fall.

"Aaaaaarrrrgghhhh!" Bill yelled a battle cry trying to drown out the almost deafening roar of the mini-cannon as well as bolster his own confidence. The undead tide just kept coming, even though they'd mowed down hundreds by this point. He wasn't sure if they'd be able to hold off the endless wave, but by God if this was meant to be his going out in a blaze of glory, he was going to drag as many of the flesh-hungry bastards to hell with him as he could.

"Gyyaaaaaahhh!" Eris screamed along with Bill, getting caught up in the sheer adrenaline rush as she and her lover held off death, side by side. Her hands were throbbing from the heat and vibration of the mini-cannon but it only caused her to tighten her grip. The rotating gun barrel began to glow orange as the weapon's temperature rose from overuse. Her arms strained against the recoil as she held the red-hot heavy weapon away from her body.

As the last straggling infected fell to pieces, the gun shut down from overheating. Everything fell silent, save the echo of Bill and Eris joined battle cry over the forest as their combat rush wore off.

Eris panted, throwing the overheated gun down once Bill was clear of it. Her arms felt like lead, her hands ached, and her heart was thudding from the rush of combat.

She'd never been more excited in her life.

Being intimate with Bill was one thing, her heart always raced when he was close, but fighting alongside him was a whole new experience, a whole new thrill. The rush she felt was intense, and sharing it with her man made her feel closer to him than she'd ever thought possible. Eris threw her arms around Bill, holding him tight.

"That… was… awesome!" Louis cheered, staring at the two lovers. Zoey giggled at Eris' cheeks blushing pink, while Francis simply nodded his head, half gasping himself. They'd held off seemingly endless hordes, defeated ambushes by intelligent special infected, beaten odds that were nearly impossible to beat, and dropped tanks that seemed bulletproof. And yet, none of it was as intense as this last battle, especially since their fifth group member joined them.

"Hell yeah! We must've killed every damn vampire within 10 miles of this place!" Francis said, cocking his shotgun.

"They're zombies, Francis!" The three survivors yelled back at the stunned biker. Eris simply giggled at her lover's exasperated shouting, gently turning his head back to hers with her palm and kissing him tenderly.

The winds blew angrily as the sky darkened, causing all of the survivors to brace themselves. Suddenly the sky lit up with another flash of lightning, followed by yet another crack of thunder. However, the faint sound everyone heard was almost as beautiful as the singing of heaven's angels.

The whirling sound of the rescue chopper as it flew overhead.

"Wheeeee oohhhh!" The chopper pilot yelled over the loudspeaker in a southern drawl as he flew in from over the river. "No problem findin' y'all, jus had to follow tha noise!" The rescue chopper flew in from the rear of the house, overshooting the survivors as another harsh gust blew off the water. The survivors turned in surprise at the sound of more angry growls; one more group of straggling infected were climbing the back of the house, following the whirly bird's cacophonous noise. The survivors sprinted towards the chopper at the opposite side of the house, hoping to outrun the next wave of death about to clamber onto the roof.

"C'mon c'mon lets go!" The pilot shouted as he hovered near the front of the house, turning the whirly around. The survivors rushed towards their salvation as it began to descend.

"I can't believe it, but we're gonna make it!" Louis yelled over the roar of the chopper and the screams of the infected a ways behind them.

Then everything went to hell.

A deafening beast like roar could be heard from below, out of sight. Suddenly, a large chunk of rock flew up like a surface to air missile. It barely grazed the tail of the helicopter, but that was enough to tilt the nose drastically forward, sending the whirly straight towards the survivors in a deadly dive.

"GET DOWN!" Bill shouted, jumping on his lover and knocking her down. Eris was flat on her stomach and he was half on her back, protectively covering her head with his arms as he pressed himself against the roof. The other survivors took a nose dive a half second later, just barely avoiding the chopper's deadly whirling blades as they sliced the air the survivors' heads occupied a heartbeat earlier. The chopper flew low over the roof as the pilot desperately tried to keep from crashing into the cabin. The rushing common infected closing in were instantly turned into chunky salsa as the spinning chopper blades diced the lot of them.

"Shit on a shingle!" The pilot yelled as he barely grazed the tops of the surrounding pines. "You're gonna havfta take care of that tank 'fore I can land! And hurry up! Storm's almost here!"

The helicopter's whine increased as it gained altitude, hovering out of range of the projectile hurling infected. Two massive fists appeared at the edge of the house as the behemoth came into view. The creature roared and pounded its chest, preparing to flatten the five survivors as they sprung to their feet.

"C'mon, come get some!" Francis yelled, firing several magnum rounds at the behemoth. Though they were much more powerful shots, it still seemed like shooting a gorilla with a pellet gun. Zoey joined in with her sniper rifle, the deadly shots drawing blood but still appearing to do only minimal damage. The group backpedaled as they unloaded their weapons, the tank grunting and growling at the onslaught of lead.

"Shit!" Louis yelled as his heel caught the edge of the roof. The survivors split in their retreat, Zoey, Francis, and Louis running towards the right, while Eris and Bill ran left. The tank was right on the heels of the trio, swatting the college girl in the back and sending her flying.

"Aaaaggghh!" Zoey screamed as she went airborne, striking the roof and sliding over the edge.

"Zoey!" Louis yelled as he sprinted towards the edge, seeing her little fingers barely hanging on. Francis growled angrily as he unloaded his auto-shotgun at point blank range, hoping to bring the monster down. The tank grunted and slugged him hard, sending him barreling into the retreating systems analyst and knocking both of them into a tumble towards the edge. Francis had been knocked out cold from the blow. Louis coughed, tasting coppery crimson liquid in his mouth. He tried to reach for Zoey's hand, but between the biker slamming into his back and his dead weight on him, he could barely move.

"This is going to hell in a hand basket real fast!" Bill yelled, firing at the tank from the rear to distract him. The tank roared and turned on its heels, barreling towards the old war vet with a murderous rage. A light patter of rain began to fall, though Bill could hardly feel it over his own sweat.

Eris howled threateningly, brandishing her deadly claws, but the tank completely ignored her, instead focusing on the painful shots coming from the war veteran. The tank was gaining ground almost as fast as they were losing it, and the beast still wasn't slowing down. The witch spotted the overheated mini-cannon and quickly ran over to snatch up the war weapon. With a scream, she charged the tank and swung the gun by its transport handles like a bat, cracking the tank in the back.

The tank roared in surprise and pain, actually stumbling from the force of the blow. With its rage redirected, the behemoth turned away from Bill and punched the witch with a vicious uppercut, sending her flying across the roof towards the opposite edge of the three downed survivors. The stunned veteran watched his lover fly several feet away, sprawled out flat from the tank's punch. She sat up, placing one palm over her head; the blow had definitely rung her bell.

Bill's eyes glazed over with rage as an image came to his mind.

_Generator running… tank attacked, but Eris distracted it and…_

"NO!" Bill yelled, scattering the image from his mind and quickly loading another clip and charging the tank with guns blazing. He had to drop this beast now, or they were all finished.

The tank was bleeding heavily, but it refused to go down. It raised both fists over its head, bringing the crushing hammer blow right onto the war veteran.

"Aaaaggghhh!" Bill screamed as he fell. The lightning flashed again, lighting up the sky and backlighting the tank as it towered over the downed war hero. The war vet coughed up blood as his vision grew fuzzy. He couldn't believe it was over this fast, so close to rescue. His friends were hanging on for dear life at the edge of the house, and he was about to be pounded flat by the angry infected. His mind drifted once more as another image flashed through it.

_Propped against a hydraulic engine... A tank stands in the doorway, about to crush me…_

Bill closed his eyes as the strangely familiar image passed through his mind, waiting for the deathblow.

_Eris… I… I'm sorry…_

"**Biiilllll!" **

The war vet's eyes popped open at the sound of his name.

The tank roared, its arms flailing over its head. Bill looked up to see Eris on the tank's back, screaming and gouging the tank's eyes with her claws. The behemoth staggered about blindly, trying to swat the angry witch off his back. She dodged its flailing arms, squeezing at its head as the beast staggered towards the edge.

With a final cry of rage, the witch crushed the tank's skull, feeling blood and gray matter ooze between her fingers. The dead beast toppled over the edge, its rider letting out a scream of surprise as they fell from sight.

"**Eris! NOOOOO!" **

Bill screamed in horror as the two fell off the edge of the roof.

No! It couldn't be! Fragments of his dream had resurfaced, but nothing took place on a roof. He remembered the tragic way his dream ended; was it just a distorted premonition of this moment?

"_On your feet, solider! People are counting on you!" _Bill told himself; he wasn't about to give up. Eris gave her life to save him, and he wasn't going to waste that gift. The war vet pulled one of the adrenaline shots from his pocket and stuck himself with it. The liquid rush gave him the strength to stand on his own. He sprinted towards the opposite end of the house towards his comrades.

"Zoey!" He yelled as he dove for the edge. The college girl was slipping, the roof becoming wet with the falling drops of rain. Her tired hands could hang on no longer, and just as her grip broke she felt two rough hands grasp her arm and haul her up with surprising strength.

"Bill!" Zoey cried as he pulled her onto the roof. "Thank God! Gah, that hurt like hell!" The college student felt like she'd been hit by a car. She took her own adrenaline shot to power through the pain as she and Bill helped Louis up.

"Thanks guys." The systems analyst said, wiping some errant blood from his lips. "Francis is out cold, I hope that chopper can get low enough so we can throw his tattooed ass on."

"Bill, where's Eris?" Zoey said in a panic as the war vet finished healing himself, not seeing their pretty gray companion anywhere.

Bill's face fell, and Zoey felt her heart in her throat.

"No! No no no no noooooo!" The college girl cried in anguish. Louis looked on in stunned silence. He couldn't believe it; she was gone.

For the first time in a very long time, Bill felt tears flooding to his eyes. "The tank. She jumped it and crushed it's skull, but they fell over the edge of the roof. She… she saved my life… saved all of us." Bill said, his voice breaking.

The chopper roared overhead, descending as the light patter of rain began to come down harder.

"C'mon c'mon!" The chopper pilot yelled. "The storm is here and we're all gonna be grounded if we don't go now!"

"Her death will _not _be in vain," Bill yelled angrily, trying to stop his tears. "Let's go!" He and Louis helped lift the unconscious biker into the chopper which was now barely hovering a foot off the rooftop. Francis stirred, apparently waking up but not enough yet to know what had happened. The survivors filed on as the chopper engine whine increased, preparing to ascend away from the destruction. The chopper slowly moved across the roof to the edge, preparing to sail over the trees.

"**Biiillllll!"**

The three conscious survivors froze.

"WAIT!" Bill yelled, looking over the edge of the chopper's open door. There, hanging on for dear life with her claw embedded into the rain gutter of the house, was Eris. She was covered in the tank's blood, which was slowly washing off her body as the rain continued to pour.

"Wait? Wait mah ass! We can't…" The pilot started.

Chk-click.

"Bring it down 'Howlin' Mad Murdoch'" Francis said gravely, cocking and pointing his Desert Eagle at the pilot's temple. He felt dizzy, but he had enough in him to stop this pilot from leaving someone behind. "Or I'll bring _all_ of us down."

The pilot swore under his breath, bringing the chopper towards the edge of the roof. "There ain't no way y'all are gonna reach that girl… wait, is that a witch!" The chopper pilot said in alarm.

Francis simply pressed the gun against him harder. "That aint no damn witch! That's Eris, and we're gonna save her or die trying!"

Bill climbed down on the landing skid, wrapping his legs around it as his hands held onto the floor's edge of the chopper. He let go, swinging down and hanging like a trapeze artist from the landing skid.

"Eris!" He cried, stretching his arms out. His gray goddess reached out with her free claw, her lover just out of reach.

"Biiiilll!" The dangling gray woman cried in fear. Though she was hanging on for dear life, she was more afraid of her lover flying away without her than falling to her own death. Another lightning flash struck directly on the roof near the metal drainpipe. The roof caught fire and Eris screamed as her death grip on the rain gutter broke loose.

"Gaaaahhhh!" Bill screamed as he grabbed her outstretched claw just in time. He felt the sharpened bone dig into his hands, and if it weren't for the fact that he was saving his lover from a fatal plunge, he never would've been able to hold on. Instead, he squeezed tighter, watching his blood run down onto her arms.

"Grrrgghh… I got you," Bill yelled. Eris golden eyes brimmed with tears, she thought she was going to lose him forever. She could only imagine how much pain her lover was in holding on to her sharp claws.

Louis and Zoey reached down, grabbing onto Bill's legs and hauling the two of them to safety. With a groan the four of them collapsed onto the chopper floor.

"Thank God!" Bill huffed. He held his lover tight and buried his face in her neck, completely ignoring the sharp cuts in his palms. "I thought I'd lost you!"

"Biiilll… thaankk yoouu," Eris cried, hugging him hard.

"I'd never leave you, Eris. Never." Bill said to her sternly, staring her in the eyes. "You're a survivor."

"Surrviiivvooorr…" Eris said, staring at her lover.

They kissed the way real lovers do, with passion, without doubt, with joy, without shame. The other three survivors smiled at the reunited couple, ignoring the swearing southern drawl of the shaken pilot as he reported in to the base. Zoey wiped a tear away from her eye as Louis and Francis patted her shoulder.

"Yah… pick up complete." The pilot said into his radio. "Also got a fifth… 'W' class. Huh? No… not hostile. Yah… ETA is thirty minutes. Out."

"We did it! We all did it!" Louis said excitedly.

"So where are we headed? Francis asked the chopper pilot as the helicopter flew away from the storm, away from the danger, and into the orange-purple dusk sky.

"Military base nearby," the pilot said, calming down. "But mah gut tells me they aint rollin' out the red carpet for y'all," he said as he glanced over his shoulder at the witch among the group. "They knew I wuz pickin' up carriers, but now…"

"But now?" Louis asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"Well they know I'm brining a special… uhh, 'guest'." The pilot said, shaking his head as he stared at the witch clinging to the war veteran. "Never seen one like her…"

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it… in a half hour." Zoey said, placing a hand on Eris' shoulder.

Bill held Eris tightly. Zoey was right, for now none of it mattered. All that mattered for now was that they were out of the frying pan.

The old vet only hoped they weren't headed into the fire.

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A/N: Ok. I'm at a bit of a crossroads here. I had an idea as to where this story was going to end, but if I carry though that would mean it'd be at least another couple chapters. I'm eager to write it, however it may be some time between updates. On the other hand, the story could just as easily end here, and leave you the reader to draw your own conclusions as to the fate of our five survivors. Please review, and tell me if I should keep going or if it would be just milking the story and drawing things out.

Also, there's an Easter egg hidden in this chapter near the beginning. :-) Can't wait to hear what you guys think it is.


	8. Private Screening

_**Legal Disclaimer: The characters Bill, Zoey, Louis, and Francis are property of Valve. Eris and other named characters that are not found in the game are my property. As usual, the main plot is Valve's, but this sub plot is mine.**_

_Mature Content Warning: This story contains sexual themes and should not be read by those under 18. If you are under 18, I don't want to know about it, since reading this could be considered mental fondling, and I only want to fondle the legal, and by that I mean the women, and specifically the boobs. To readers who are female with nice knockers, please press them against the screen before continuing. There you go… set those puppies free. A little to the left… thaaaat's it. Oh yes, right there. ;-)_

Author's Notes: So many reviewers! Seems the vote is unanimous to continue the story, so I've done just that. This chapter was originally supposed to be only a few paragraphs before it's segue into the epilogue for our heroes, but since I've had to rewrite quite a bit to keep with the demands of my fans, this will be longer and hopefully more enjoyable. :-D

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Chapter 8 – Private Screening

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The five survivors watched as the helicopter slowly descended over what looked to be a small military base. Though the others didn't notice, Bill was paying attention to the coordinates on the pilot's control panel. The old vet had been a soldier since the day after he turned 18. He'd been to all five army bases in Pennsylvania, and yet this base was completely unfamiliar to him. In fact, he'd never heard of a military base located in this section of the state of PA. Was there a hidden installation he didn't know about?

The war vet had a bitter taste in his mouth. Something didn't add up.

Bill went to scratch his head, but thought better of it. He remembered his hands were useless now. Fortunately there was some leftover gauze from one of the first aid kits to bandage his hands. Unfortunately, the cuts from Eris' claws were deep, so much in fact he was surprised he hadn't sliced any tendons. He was still able to move all of his fingers, though with more than a little discomfort. Now he felt like a boxer preparing for a match with his hands completely wrapped, except Bill couldn't even throw a punch with these hands. He gave silent thanks that he'd suffered these injuries at the end of their journey as opposed to earlier, otherwise he'd have been shipped home in a box.

The chopper landed and as the five survivors disembarked, they were immediately greeted at gunpoint by six army soldiers. Bill's eyes narrowed, his gut feeling that things were off around here was very strong. The six soldiers didn't approach in any sort of order or file, and although they all appeared to be wearing the same helmets and BDU's, their weapons were completely mismatched. One soldier, who appeared to be the leader, had an M-16. However the others sported a garden variety of weapons. Bill noticed a SCAR, an AK-47, and even a couple silenced sub-machine guns in the group.

Maybe they were the regrouped remains of the army who'd done the best they could with their limited resources, and maybe they were all very tired and very nervous, but whatever it was, Bill sensed a rather "non-military" tension in the air, and he didn't like it.

Eris held his arm, squeezing him nervously.

"It'll be ok sweetheart," he whispered to his gray goddess as the soldiers approached.

"Prroomissee?" She whispered back, huddling closer to him. Bill barely nodded before the leader of the group began yelling at them.

"Drop your weapons, put your hands in the air, and step away from the infected!" The 'leader' yelled, taking point.

"Not gonna happen buddy," Francis said nonchalantly as he stepped half in front of the witch.

"Do I look like your fuckin' buddy?" The solider asked, his voice beginning to rise as his temper flared. "I didn't ask you, I'm telling you." He said, approaching the biker.

"We'll drop our weapons, but our friend stays with us!" Zoey said, being the first to lay her sniper rifle down but standing close to the nervous witch in the group.

"The fuck do you think this is, girl? A god damn negotiating table?" The soldier with the SCAR asked, pointing his weapon at her.

"Simmons, shut up!" The leader barked. "I'll handle this."

Zoey glared at the solider in the back, her hands clenching in anger. Louis gently laid his hand on hers and whispered, "Its ok. They're obviously frightened. Best thing to do right now is let them think they're in charge."

"What was that?" A soldier with an AK-47 yelled.

"He wasn't talkin' to you, asshole!" Francis growled, reaching for his magnum.

All six soldiers pointed their weapons at the biker. "Unless you wanna be turned into swiss cheese right now, take your hand off that pistol, _asshole_," another solider chimed in from the group, this one carrying a silenced SMG. Bill cocked an eyebrow in surprise. That soldier was female. It was difficult to tell from the distance and the uniforms, but her voice was a dead giveaway. Through Bill's entire military career, women were never allowed to serve as infantry.

"_This base must be on its last legs," _Bill thought to himself.

"Jesus Christ! Lenhart! Who is the squad leader here?" The M-16 soldier asked rhetorically over his shoulder. Lenhart shrunk back in embarrassment from her outburst.

"You couldn't lead lemmings off a fuckin' cliff!" Francis yelled, trying to goad the leader on. He was itchin' for these bastards to drop the weapons and go toe to toe with him. The biker missed a good brawl, and right now he was just in the mood to imbed his fist into the gut of one of these cocky military bastards.

Eris began growling, the arguing and hostility awakening her "fight or flight" instincts. She moved behind Bill, her chest pressed against his back as he squeezed his arms in frustration. He could feel her heart racing, could sense the tension within her building up like a wound spring. In a minute, this was all going to go to hell in a hand basket.

"Step away from the witch NOW!" The leader yelled, pointing his M-16 at the angry gray woman. Her loud growling caught the leader's attention. Bill gave the guy credit, he had balls, that much was certain. His M-16 would do little more than bruise Eris before she closed the distance and chopped his arms off. Eris growled louder, protectively stepping in front of Bill and brandishing her claws. While Bill appreciated his lover's protective gesture, it was actually making things worse. Even his comrades were getting nervous; Eris looked just like a witch on the verge of exploding as her angry howl grew louder. The other soldiers were shouting to their leader to request to open fire, who was in turn yelling at his men, trying to keep everything from going off in a powder keg.

3… 2… 1…

"SHUT UP ALL OF YOU!"

Bill yelled so loud it was as though the entire base heard him. Everyone fell silent at Bill's order, though the soldiers still had their weapons aimed at the five survivors. Zoey, Louis, and Francis all had slack jaws, having never heard their leader yell like that. Eris' angry fit abruptly halted at the sound of Bill shouting. She whimpered quietly as she turned to face him; this was the first time she'd heard him yell in anger and she hoped it would be the last.

"Biilll…" She whispered with remorse in her eyes. Bill cleared his throat; he hadn't yelled that loudly in a while. He wanted badly to squeeze Eris' claw to let her know things were ok, but his damaged hands made that impossible. Instead he smirked and winked at her, earning a stare of confusion from his lover.

Besides, this wasn't the time for comforting. It was time for someone to take charge.

Bill slowly moved away from Eris and stepped towards the armed soldiers' leader. Eris attempted to follow, but Louis took a protective stance in front of her as he faced the soldiers.

Zoey gently squeezed Eris' claw. "It's ok," she whispered, wondering if she could fool her. Eris certainly didn't look convinced, but she held her ground, instead peering over Louis' shoulder.

"Please listen to me," Bill said, pausing as he looked at the name on the leader's jacket, "Malory."

"That's Sergeant Malory," the leader said with a quiver in his voice. Bill sized up the sergeant quickly. He was in his early thirties, a good decade older than the rest of his squad, but the one thing they all had in common was they were scared out of their minds. Though he seemed to have a cooler head than the men he led, it was clear he was still more than a bit nervous about the witch in the group.

"Sergeant Malory," Bill said, giving him a salute. "I'm Captain William Overbeck, member of the US Army Special Forces Group." The sergeant seemed to stiffen in surprise. "That woman is not hostile," Bill said, motioning over his shoulder to the witch who was sandwiched between the other three survivors in a protective fashion.

"That doesn't matter… sir," Malory said with a little contempt, deliberately not addressing Bill by his proper military title. "Even if you are who you say you are, that is a very deadly infected in your group. She must be quarantined immediately!"

Bill narrowed his eyes and slowly stepped towards the leader. Malory was sweating bullets, though he still had his gun pointed at the old war vet.

"Step back NOW!" Malory yelled. Bill ignored him, calmly moving the barrel of the M-16 away from his face as he got toe to toe with the Sergeant.

"Son, right now it doesn't matter if I claim to be the God damn Pope on holiday," Bill said quietly in a cool, even, and authoritative tone. "What matters is that if you and your men don't relax, that 'witch' is going to get mad as hell." The war vet felt a momentary pang of regret referring to his love as such. "You know what happens when they get angry, don't you sergeant?"

Malory nodded slowly. He'd seen first hand what those infected bitches were capable of. The only thing worse was a tank, but at least a tank could be outrun. He remembered losing one of his squad mates to an angry witch. The hotshot thought he could blow her head off with one shotgun blast, but the witch was surprisingly fast. She'd dodged his shot and her rage scream sent everyone into a panic. The soldier turned on his heels, but didn't run more than ten feet before his head was lopped from his shoulders. The only silver lining to that incident was the gray griever had run off crying after she'd given his comrade a "French Haircut." The witch in this group had nowhere to run, so who knew what she'd do after she drew first blood.

Bill nodded quietly. "You guys will likely drop her, after all there're six of you, and if you're all calm, organized, and are killer shots…" Bill paused, letting those "traits" sink in. The leader knew damn well his men were anything but that. "…you could take her down before she killed most of you." The war vet said as though he were discussing the weather. The sergeant swallowed nervously, the mental images from his last witch encounter giving him rubber legs.

"Or…" Bill said quietly, "you can tell your men to lower their weapons right now and drop the hostile attitude. We'll surrender our arms and come along quietly. And there won't be any blood spilled. All I ask is that you take us to whoever's in charge of this base. Deal?"

The sergeant held his ground and looked over Bill's shoulder, pointing his rifle at the witch. Eris peered over Louis' shoulder with apprehension, her golden eyes finding Malory's hazel gaze hiding behind the sights of his assault rifle. The sergeant felt his breath catch in his throat. Despite the dried blood on her face and clothes she was beautiful; nothing like the witches he'd remembered seeing. Her amber eyes darted about before locking with his again. She was nervous and upset, but not angry. No… the blind rage he'd seen in the eyes of the other infected was absent in this witch.

Sgt. Malory shuddered as a painful memory came forth. The last time he'd seen glowing eyes like hers was his wife's, just before the viral-induced rage took control of her. She'd been bedridden for a week from the illness, her mind slowly slipping into dementia. The fits of rage seemed to come more and more frequently as the illness progressed. The worst of it was near the end, when she was only a few breaths away from being considered "clinically dead." Her body was gaunt, her skin turned a pale gray, and her nails long and hard like rigid bone. In a voice broken from sickness and anguish, she said she loved him and begged him to kill her before she was completely gone. He'd been a coward, unable to do it even when she lost consciousness. He even went so far as to tie her to the bed, hedging his bets that she would fight through the bouts of madness and eventually get better. However, when she awoke, Mrs. Malory was no more. The creature in her place stared at him with bloodlust in her amber eyes. She screamed and struggled against the rope that held her down, gnashing her teeth as her husband watched in terror. Malory finally mustered his courage out of love for his wife, and put her out of her misery with a bullet through her heart. The worst part of it all was even after being shot fatally, the creature that was once his wife lay there in a pool of her blood still reaching for him, still babbling in a murderous rage as her life bled out of her. She suffered from the viral rage all the way to the very end. She didn't deserve to suffer as long as she did, but he couldn't bring himself to look his wife in her amber eyes to shoot her in the head.

No. This "witch" was different, and the fact that these four people had traveled with her in their company showed just that. She deserved a chance his wife never got.

"Deal…" Malory said quietly. He lowered his weapon and turned to his soldiers. "Squad, arms rest!"

The squad, or rather what was left of it in its six members, slowly lowered their weapons.

"Everyone," Bill said, addressing his comrades. "Place your weapons on the ground, all of them."

"The hell? Are you crazy old ma-" Francis started, before the sound of clattering guns on the ground cut him off. Louis and Zoey laid down the rest of their firearms, along with their pistols and Zoey's newfound katana blade. Eris glared at the biker with scolding eyes. "This is fucking nuts…" Francis mumbled as he placed his auto shotgun and magnum on the ground.

Bill showed his bandaged hands to the sergeant. "Sorry but my hands are 'tied.' He said, chuckling a little at the pun before turning his back to him. "You'll have to remove this weapon from my shoulders."

The sergeant slung his own rifle over his shoulder. He drew Bill's twin pistols from his leg holsters, then removed the shoulder strap for his M-16.

"You had time to clean this?" Malory asked as he looked over the rifle, trying some small talk to break the obvious tension.

"You make time," Bill said, turning around to face him. "All of us had more success than most people would out there. One might call it luck, but I know it's because I have a great team, all _five_ of us." Bill said, smiling at his group and waving them over. The four slowly approached the war veteran, feeling the eyes of all the soldiers upon them. When they were within a few feet, Eris pushed away from the center of the survivors and rushed to Bill's side, protectively hugging his arm. Malory took a half step back reflexively, the witch's amber eyes scanning him the way a lioness sizes up the weaker members of the pride.

"She's alright, Eris is just a little protective," Bill said with a smile.

"You named her?" Malory asked.

Bill's face darkened, the suggestion that she was some kind of "pet" made his eyes gleam with anger. The sergeant swallowed hard again, wishing he could take the question back.

"No…" Zoey said, interjecting to calm Bill down. "She told us her name." The college girl placed a hand affectionately on the witch's shoulder. "Name?" she asked with a smile.

"Zoooeeeyy…" Eris sang in her angel's voice, pointing at her. The soldiers all gasped at the sound of the witch half-speaking, half-singing. Zoey chuckled and pointed at the gray goddess, indicating she wanted to know her name.

Eris cocked an eyebrow at her, wondering why she would ask what she already knew. Still, she repeated her name for the auburn-haired girl.

"Errriisss…" She said in a melodious voice, pointing to herself. The squad gathered closer, but still kept a healthy distance as they whispered to each other. Even the sergeant was stunned; he'd never heard an infected speak.

"Well…" Malory said, clearing his throat and turning momentarily to glare at his troops who'd broken formation. "We will escort you to who's in charge, but first you must go through decontamination."

"Decontamination? Sir we're not infected," Louis started.

"Rules are rules, and besides you can't tell me you don't want to clean up and have your clothes laundered." Malory said while signaling his men to gather the survivors' weapons. The systems analyst sighed, there was no argument from him on that one. He had more dried and caked blood stuck to him than a slaughterhouse worker.

The five were escorted to the medical building a few blocks away from the landing pad. The squad held a tight circular formation around the new arrivals. During their walk, the four immune survivors noticed the civilian personnel seemed to outnumber the military, but it wasn't as though the base was overcrowded. The old soldier expected to see a lot more activity going on around the base, especially considering the circumstances of the viral outbreak. Judging by the groups of people walking around, it appeared to be a 2 to 1 ratio of medical staff and civilians to military personnel.

But what was most disconcerting was that nearly every person that spotted them didn't give them a second glance. Maybe they couldn't see Eris from within the crowd of people. The sky was still dark from the storm that had passed this area and the sun was beginning to set.

"Lot of medical staff," Louis whispered. "I guess it makes sense."

"I hate doctors, and hospitals and lawyers…" Francis said.

"Have you all noticed something… uhh… "off" about this place?" Zoey asked in a hushed tone, cutting off Francis' potential diatribe.

"Like the fact that not a single person who's spotted us has stopped to point and stare at Eris?" Bill whispered back.

"Exactly," Zoey said quietly. "Not to mention there doesn't seem to be a lot of military here."

Francis grunted quietly in agreement, wondering the same thing. Louis acted uninterested, knowing their conversation was anything but private. Zoey peered over her shoulder at Bill, wondering if he had any insight.

Bill sighed. Even though he had some thoughts, they were best kept to himself until they were away from strangers' ears. The soldiers escorting them stared straight ahead, but that certainly didn't mean they weren't listening. Eris looked at Bill with worry, she could sense the tension between her companions and their "escort." Bill shot her a reassuring smile before addressing his team.

"All I'm interested in right now is getting out of these blood-bathed clothes, having a hot shower, a decent meal, then getting a formal debriefing," Bill said, the others catching the subtle cue to stop the whispering.

"Amen to that," Louis said, his stomach growling at the mention of food; none of them had eaten in the last few days, all of them running off the adrenaline rush of survival. Frankly he hoped he'd be able to keep his food down. People tended to vomit if they tried to eat anything solid after being without for several days.

The five were led into an unmarked building, the rush of artificially cold air causing all of them to shiver. The inside was sterile white, like a hospital. Numerous medical staff in lab coats carrying charts and the like were walking about, paying little attention to the five new visitors. One of the medical staff, a stout woman with dark black hair approached the group briskly.

"Sergeant Malory, state your business," The woman said to the escort leader, her demeanor about as warm as a block of ice.

"You should know why we're here, Maria." The sergeant said with an irritated tone. "Your medical team was the first to be alerted-"

"Shut it, Malory," Maria said, glaring at him. "If I knew why you were here I wouldn't be asking you, would I? Now state your business!"

"Rescued civilians here for decontamination," He responded as though talking to a drill sergeant, doing his best to hide his irritation. "Four immune, one… non-hostile infected." He said with hesitation.

"What?" The stout woman asked, not noticing Eris until just now. She yelped in surprise and stepped back a couple steps. She scribbled notes on her pad and mumbled to herself, "A witch… unbelievable." Eris glared at her with disdain; she hated that "name."

"Noo wiiittchh," The gray beauty said almost defiantly. "Eerrrisss."

"And apparently she is sentient." The woman said, eying her again and jotting down more notes. "Ok, take them to decontamination chamber four." She said curtly, dismissing the sergeant as she hurried away.

"Bitch…" The sergeant muttered under his breath as he led the group to the decontamination room.

Bill cocked an eyebrow_. "Insubordination and almost open hostility. Granted tensions are probably high, but it still doesn't add up."_ He thought to himself.

The survivors were ushered into a large decontamination chamber. It was like a gymnasium shower, with no stalls for privacy. However it was laid out like an assembly line, blank tile walls to the left and right, and shower heads on the ceiling. Inside the chamber were five people in full body yellow HAZMAT suits, with large scrubbing brushes attached to six foot long poles. One pressed a button on the wall, the showerheads above blasting out water.

"Undress please, and step into the decontamination area," Malory said curtly.

"Uh huh… right," Zoey said dryly. "How about a little privacy?"

Malory sighed, "Exactly where do you see any place in this room for you to have privacy? You're going to be scrubbed down by those five HAZMAT personnel, so get over your shyness."

"Why can't we scrub ourselves down? We're dirty, not physically disabled," Louis chimed in as he removed his blood stained business casual wear.

"Standard procedure," Malory said with a smirk. "But if it helps, I'll turn my back."

The survivors grumbled and began to undress, though not without a lot of hesitation. Eris, while not yet remembering the concept of modesty, still could sense the unease of her companions around these other humans. She glared at the five yellow men, until Zoey assisted her with her clothes. She raised her arms as Zoey removed her dress, staring at Bill with a timid smile. She could tell he was unsettled, but doing his best to hide it.

Francis simply started chuckling and began to undress as the yellow-suited men approached, holding their pole-scrub brushes like spears.

"What's so funny, biker?" One of the yellow-clad men asked with a muffled voice.

"You mean aside from the fact that you guys look like walking condoms with little windows?" Francis laughed as he removed his vest, then his t-shirt. The biker didn't seem to care much about having to disrobe. "What's funny is if you think you're getting anywhere near her," Francis motioned to the half-naked witch as he finished removing his own clothes, "with those brushes, you're nuttier than a squirrel's shit in October."

The five HAZMAT men turned to the underwear-clad gray beauty, who in turn was emitting a low rumble in her throat, like a lioness protecting her cubs. Her amber eyes pierced through the plastic visor of the closest HAZMAT member. He trembled as he raised his pole brush towards Eris' chest…

In the blink of an eye she swung one claw up, cleaving the pole in half. The stunned HAZMAT member cried out and dropped his severed pole on the tile floor with a loud clang. The soldiers drew their weapons, but Eris didn't move.

"At ease," Malory said with a wave of his hand. This was getting interesting. He never much cared for any of the medical staff; it seemed as though they all looked down on him and his fellow soldiers as "grunts." Watching this "witch" teach them some humility was rather satisfying.

"Do something, Sergeant!" The stunned HAZMAT member yelled.

"What would you like me to do, sir? Shoot her?" Malory said with a smirk. "My squad's orders are to escort, and lethal force is only authorized if subjects are openly hostile and an immediate threat."

"And what the hell would you call that?" The HAZMAT man said, pointing to his severed pole.

"I'd call that 'mildly irritated,' you don't wanna see a witch 'openly hostile.'" Malory said, trying to keep from laughing.

The other soldiers watched the witch, who ceased growling but held her ground. Eris casually flickered her claws on one hand in the air, as if daring the other HAZMAT men to approach her.

"Fuck this!" The shocked HAZMAT man said, running towards the exit at the rear of the chamber. The other yellow-clad men looked at Eris, then over their shoulders at the exit.

"They don't pay us enough," one of them said in a muffled voice as he turned for the door. The others followed suit and left the same way their frightened comrade had gone.

"This is yet another report I'm gonna have to fill out about procedure being broken." Malory sighed, faux glaring at Eris since she was to blame for this, though he wasn't entirely upset. She turned to him with apologetic amber eyes, melting his cold stare with a warm smile. Malory stared at the half-naked gray beauty. He'd never seen a woman so stunning, especially not a witch. The sad bitches were known for looking hideous and anorexic-thin.

Bill, who'd only removed his jacket and shirt due to his bandaged hands, stepped directly in front of Eris to block the view and glared at the gawking sergeant. Eris noticed her lover's jealousy. She giggled and gently nuzzled his neck while squeezing at his bare muscled arms with the base of her claws. Her breasts pressed against his back, and if the war vet wasn't so pissed, he'd have been damn turned on right now.

"How 'bout that privacy?" Bill asked in an even yet angry tone.

"Fine. Shit, I'm gonna get chewed out for that bullshit at the helipad, might as well add the decontamination chamber to the list," Malory sighed. "Powdered soap's over there, it'll lather when wet, and that red button on the wall starts and stops the showers. Next area is where you can dry off, button to control the dryer mechanism is on the wall as well. When you're finished, you'll find clothing lockers at the other end of the chamber. Leave your dirty clothes in a pile here; they will be disinfected separately."

"And when will we get our weapons back?" Francis asked, already knowing the answer.

"Don't push your luck, buddy," Malory said before dismissing his troops, following them out the door.

"Thaaank yoouuu…" Eris sang to the sergeant as he left.

Malory froze in the doorway, stopping to look over his shoulder at the grateful witch. "Incredible…" he mumbled, before shutting the door behind him.

"That's the word I'd have picked," Zoey said with a smirk as she continued to undress. She'd only removed her pink hoodie and t-shirt. Though she wasn't modest around her friends, complete strangers were another matter. She finished undressing then assisted Eris and Bill with the rest of their clothes, since now both their hands were useless for such dexterous tasks.

The team of five stepped under the hot showers. Louis and Francis picked up scrub poles and removed the brushes from them, quickly lathering them up with soap and getting to work scrubbing themselves. Zoey removed two more brushes and powdered them up as well, the hot water causing the soap to froth up. Bill and Eris stood side by side, facing the college student who set to work on them both.

"Thanks Zoey," Bill said as she scrubbed his chest with her right hand while working on Eris with her left.

Zoey simply smiled, having finished with their fronts and now working on their backs. "Anything for two people I care about that are in love."

The war vet blushed and Eris smiled, the word "love" standing out in her mind.

"Loovee Biill," She said, looking over at him while Zoey covered her in soapy lather.

"And I love you, Eris." Bill said, not feeling so modest about his feelings anymore.

"You two are so damn adorable…" Francis said with a sarcastic smile.

"Yeah, you're both so sweet my teeth are hurting. I'll have to cut my foot off from diabetes," Louis chimed in with a laugh. Zoey simply chuckled and finished scrubbing her friends down.

"You're both just jealous," Zoey said, using the brushes on herself now that she'd finished washing the two of them. She felt a brush bop her on the head. She turned to see Louis and Francis had finished cleaning themselves, and had reattached the scrub brushes to the poles.

"Ack! Stoppit!" She giggled as the two of them poked at her with the brushes. The survivors laughed as they played around a bit. Zoey fended them both off for a moment, then gave in as the two of them began washing her down with the large poles.

"How the hell did they expect to clean us with these things? Talk about awkward," Louis said, removing his brush.

"Yeah, if they wanted to do it right, they'd have to get up close," Francis commented, removing his brush and stepping right up to the naked college girl. Louis followed suit, and the two men were now scrubbing down their female companion with much less difficulty, and less resistance.

Zoey shuddered as the two of them rubbed her body all over. The brushes were quickly discarded as both men had enough lather on their hands. Francis washed the petite college girl's chest, while Louis worked his fingernails into her back and over her rear. She moaned softly. She would love to take things further, but now simply wasn't the time.

"C'mon boys, lets finish up." She said with a wry smile. "We have an escort waiting." Louis and Francis looked like two kids who'd missed the ice cream truck, but they complied.

The three survivors rinsed off and joined the witch and the war vet in the next area of the chamber. Large air vents adorned the ceiling, floor, and right-side wall.

"Why do I have a bad feeling about this?" Louis asked, looking at the various vents.

"Reminds me of those stupid hand dryers they install in public bathrooms," Zoey said, looking at the various vent holes.

"Yeah, and they had those 'Xcelerator' models too, which would blow your damn skin off but still not get you dry," Francis commented.

The three young survivors fell silent as they stared at the ominous, large red button jutting out from the wall.

"So who's starting it?" Louis asked

"Not me." Francis quipped. "I'd rather drip-dry."

"Not me either!" Zoey said, attempting to wring out the excess water in her hair.

"Well I'm the one who asked, so I'm not doing it," Louis quipped. The three survivors suddenly began arguing like children about who would take the dare.

"Kids," Bill muttered, as the three survivors bickered. He turned to his love who was no longer standing by him. He spotted her at the end of the chamber by the clothing lockers, gently holding a towel in her claws and smiling at Bill. Bill spotted the red button on the wall, a mischievous smile crossing his lips as he side glanced at his three comrades who were oblivious to what was about to happen. Bill slammed the button on the wall and quickly joined Eris away from the air vents.

"Well someone's gotta start-" Zoey said, before her voice was drowned out by a loud blast of wind.

The vents opened up with what was a hurricane's gale force, blasting the three survivors with so much air it actually blew their breath away. Zoey yelped and fell right on her ass, while Louis and Francis stumbled towards the opposite wall. Bill laughed hard, hearing the almost inaudible swearing as the vents blasted them. They were trying to stand while covering their faces, but the surprise completely disoriented them.

"Thanks sweetheart," Bill said as Eris carefully handed him a towel. He quickly dried himself off as best he could with his injured hands, then picked up a second to dry his beloved. Her body was easy, but the old soldier winced a little as he tried to dry her hair, squeezing with his hands hurt like hell.

Eris stared sadly at Bill, gently holding his wrapped up hands in her claws. She felt so bad for hurting him, even though it was unintentional. Another word surfaced from her memory as the noisy dryer system shut off.

"Sss… ssoooorryyy," she said, a tear running down her face.

"Don't cry." Bill said gently, kissing the errant tear off her cheek. "It was worth it." Eris sniffled once, still tenderly holding the war vet's hands.

"What was worth it? Turning that damn dryer on?" Francis asked, a bit louder than usual.

"What? I can't hear you! Some asshole turned on the dryer system without warning us." Zoey yelled, glaring at Bill, her auburn hair half in her face and generally knotted everywhere.

"Huh? Speak up!" Louis half yelled before spotting the towels by the clothing lockers. "Towels? You gotta be kidding me!"

"What about your jowls?" Francis asked, sticking his finger in his ear.

"Gross! Don't talk about your bowels!" Zoey half yelled, attempting to shake water out of her ear.

Bill simply laughed and pointed Francis and Zoey to the small pile of folded towels by the clothing lockers.

Zoey grumbled as she ran her fingers through her hair, attempting to straighten it out.

"Oh come on, have a sense of humor." Bill said with a chuckle. "I only did what I thought was best to stop you guys from bickering."

Zoey couldn't help herself as a giggle escaped her lips. Thinking about it, it was pretty funny. "My hair probably looks like a bad 80's hairstyle." She said smiling.

"Good thing me and 'white collar' don't have to worry about our hair getting' messed up," Francis said, nodding at Louis. "Nothin' up there to mess up," the biker said as he began toweling off the errant drops that weren't blasted from his body by 100mph winds.

As they all finished drying off, the five survivors found various sizes of unisex clothing in the lockers. They were essentially off-white colored scrubs, with long sleeve tops and drawstring pants. Generic boxer type underwear and snug-fitting tank tops were provided to serve as undergarments.

"Would it have been too much for them to give us women bras and panties?" Zoey grumbled as she assisted Eris with her garments after dressing herself.

"They said they were gonna wash our clothes, so we should have our old outfits back," Louis said as he pulled some peach-colored scrubs over his head. The systems analyst grumbled and shook his head. "At least I hope so, 'cause damn these things are ugly. I must look like a burnt matchstick!"

The three immune survivors stared slack jawed at the dark man.

"What?" Louis asked. "Just trying to bring some levity to-"

Everyone, save Eris, burst out laughing.

Bill wiped away a tear from his eye, he'd been laughing so hard. "Ok… that was out of the blue and funny as hell. But c'mon, I'm sure they're waiting on us."

The survivors exited the chamber in their new outfits. Malory and his squad were waiting for them in the next room, which had several curtained-off examination areas and a host of medical staff, all of them wearing light blue scrubs, latex gloves, and disposable breathing masks.

"Haven't you had your fill of us?" Francis asked Malory with a lopsided grin.

"Enough to give me indigestion, and there isn't an antacid tablet big enough for you guys," the sergeant quipped with a smirk. He turned his gaze to Eris. "Now promise me you won't give the nice ladies here any trouble?"

"Prooommisssee…" Eris said, not completely understanding Malory but remembering using the word to ask Bill if he was ok. The medical staff stared in stunned silence. Apparently none of them were ready for a docile, talking witch.

Malory just chuckled. "She sure is something."

"Please go into one of the respective curtained-off areas," one of the nurses said. The three young survivors each took a seat in one of the privacy areas, where several nurses proceeded to take vital signs and check for various injuries. Bill and Eris stuck together, seeing as how it was the only way she seemed to be calm with all these strangers. She and Bill took the last booth, the nurse inside going over Bill's vitals as well.

"Everything appears to be normal, you're quite healthy for a man your age," the nurse said to Bill with a nervous smile. It was apparent that Eris' presence made her a little unsettled.

"Thanks, being a good soldier will do that to you." Bill said as the nurse removed the bandages from his hands.

"Aside from some pretty nasty bruises and those gash marks on your hand…" she paused, getting a better look at Bill's blood-stained hands. "What on earth did this? You're lucky you can still move your fingers after cuts this deep."

Bill quietly cleared his throat as Eris looked away in shame. The nurse noticed the claws on Eris' hands were clean, but stained a crimson color, as though they'd soaked up the blood from whatever they'd slashed.

"I did this when I saved Eris from falling to her death." He said, taking pride in his "battle scars" as he smiled at his witchy woman.

Eris stared at the exposed gashes on Bill's hands and winced in pain, staring at her own mutated hands. She hated these claws. They were instruments of destruction and nothing more. She couldn't dress herself or wash up without help, but worst of all, she couldn't touch her lover without the danger of hurting him.

Eris hung her head, her soft white locks hanging about her face as she sobbed softly. Bill tried to console her, but the nurse beat him to it. She gathered her courage and boldly touched the witch's cheek, causing her to look up in surprise.

"Eris," the nurse said as she stared into her amber eyes, "that man grabbed onto you and didn't let go, and do you know why?"

Eris stared intently at the nurse, as if hanging onto every word.

"Because you're a beautiful rose, and he bore the thorns just so he could hold you." She said.

"Beeauutiifulll…" Eris said with a smile, remembering when Zoey and Bill had paid her the same compliment. "Thannkk yoouu…"

The nurse smiled at the gray woman, feeling a little more relaxed now. She opened a jar of a thick gooey substance, much like Vaseline, but almost greasy. She lathered up a large glob in her hands and began rubbing and massaging Bill's palms. The war vet hissed in pain at first, but the stinging sensation disappeared as the nurse rubbed the substance into his hands. After a minute, his hands felt as though he'd never injured them.

"Wow… what is this stuff?" Bill asked.

"Think of it as an 'extreme' Neosporin." The nurse said as she cut fresh bandages. "It has a powerful anesthetic to dull the pain, and it will accelerate the healing process. Within a week your hands should be completely healed." She finished as she re-wrapped the war vet's hands. It was a damn sight better than the makeshift work they'd done in the helicopter.

"You'll have a little more dexterity, but don't push it." The nurse said admonishingly. "Those bandages have to stay on or you'll require stitches, and you don't want that."

"Thank you," Bill said. "So I guess we're done here?"

"Ouch! That hurt!" Bill overheard Francis yell at one of the nurses.

"Oh don't be such a baby, it's just a needle!" Louis said from three curtains down.

"Francis haaaatttes neeeedles," Zoey sang like a little kid. "OUCH! Damn it that hurt!" She yelled in surprise as her nurse stuck her in the arm.

Bill looked over at the nurse who was holding a small hypodermic needle. "I take it we're not done yet?"

"Nope. We're going to need blood work from all of you, including her," The nurse said as she looked at Eris. Bill winced in pain slightly as the nurse stuck him in the crook of his arm and drew blood. Within seconds, she'd withdrawn the syringe and labeled it.

"Now it's your turn," the nurse said, looking to Eris. The witch rumbled low in her throat, not entirely happy with the circumstances.

"Its ok sweetheart," Bill said reassuringly as he stood up and sat her down. "They just want to help us." Those golden eyes stared into him, a confusing mixture of doubt and trust. She believed her lover's sincerity, but something about these strangers put her off.

The nurse drew a fresh needle and attempted to pierce Eris' skin, but the needle wouldn't budge. She tried three times, the needle actually bending from the pressure. "Damn, she has some very strong skin." The nurse said with a grunt as she pushed harder. Eventually the needle snapped in half, leaving a light pin mark on Eris' skin.

"Ok… that will have to wait until later," The nurse said as she jotted some notes. She led Bill and Eris out of the privacy area. The other survivors emerged from their respective curtained areas, each with some extra bandages and fresh gauze to replace the "field patchwork" they'd used to keep themselves together during combat.

"I hate needles," Francis grumbled, rubbing the sore spot on his arm. "What the hell do they need a blood sample for anyway?"

"We're going to test for a number of pathogens and determine if the four of you are truly immune or just carriers of the virus. If you're immune, we can continue our work on developing a vaccine, and perhaps a cure." A new voice said.

The survivors turned towards the new arrival. He was a tall gentleman with dark curls, an olive-skinned complexion, and dark brown eyes. The rest of his facial features were hidden behind a sanitary facial mask, much like the other medical assistants. A white lab coat that reached his knees covered up the blue scrubs he wore underneath. His hands were covered by a pair of latex gloves.

"Greetings everyone. I'm Dr. Allan, base Echo Rho Tau's Chief Medical Officer, and I will be personally monitoring your recovery."

"Nice to meet you Dr. Allan. I'm Bill, and behind me is Zoey, Louis, and Francis." Bill said, giving his doctor a firm handshake as the others gathered around behind the war vet, all of them introducing themselves in turn.

"And who's this lovely lady?" Dr. Allan asked, turning his gaze towards Eris. She was half standing behind Bill, her face as unreadable as a championship poker player.

"This is Eris," Zoey said, gently squeezing her claw as she stood next to her.

"Hello Eris," Dr. Allan said with a smile, extending his gloved hand in a friendly gesture. Eris stared in confusion, the notion of hand-shaking lost from her memory. Eventually she simply touched his hand, staring at him as though concentrating on a solving a puzzle.

"Incredible… just incredible," Dr. Allan mumbled. "Sgt. Malory informed me that we had an intelligent witch-"

"Eerrrriiissss," The gray goddess said, a little annoyed. Though she had difficulty speaking some words, her own name wasn't one of them. It seemed as though she'd deliberately drawn out her name to emphasize it.

Dr. Allan paused in surprise, but quickly regained his calm demeanor. "I'm sorry, Eris. I'll never call you that again." Eris' expression remained unchanged. Clearing his throat, Dr. Allen continued. "Sgt. Malory said that she could talk, is completely self-aware, and is apparently quite protective of you, Captain Overbeck."

"Please just call me Bill." The war vet sighed. "Though I'm still a Captain, I'm not hung up on formal military titles anymore."

Dr. Allen nodded. "Well I'm sure all of you are hungry, and Sgt. Malory mentioned you'd like to speak with the head of this facility." The doctor took a deep breath as he hung on that last word.

"However…" Bill said for him.

The CMO sighed, "However, in accordance with protocol here at base Echo Rho Tau, none of you are permitted to go anywhere until we have the blood work results back." The doctor paused. He sensed all of them stiffen up at this news and the witch seemed to feed off their discomfort, a low rumble starting in her throat.

Bill rubbed his chin in thought. He'd never heard of any base with a code name like that. This installation was more than just an army base, it was a secret research facility. He wanted answers, but now wasn't the time to get angry. It was best to simply play along, at least for now.

"And how long will that be?" Bill asked dryly.

"We should have the results by tomorrow morning. However there's another matter to address," the doctor said, turning his brown eyes to Eris' amber stare. "Eris is a truly unique case of the infection, and we absolutely require blood work from her at some point to continue our research and determine why she is different." He said, glaring a little at Bill's nurse, who seemed to shrivel like a grape out in the sun. "But the fact remains that she is indeed infected, and thus she will have to remain quarantined and under observation. We can't run the risk of the infection spreading throughout the base."

"You're going to just lock her up and isolate her like some sick animal?" Zoey asked, her voice rising with her temper. She reflexively squeezed Eris' claw harder, but the gray goddess didn't react. She held that same stoic, poker face since meeting the CMO.

"Not necessarily." Dr. Allan said, his forehead beginning to dot with nervous perspiration. I'm going to speak with the General about her unique condition. We could learn a lot about her by observing her interact with all of you and with others. We have a variety of recreational activities around the base, and it would be more beneficial for all of you to enjoy them together. Plus it would allow us to observe Eris' behavior and learning capabilities. The fact that she can speak and understand speech is incredible. Have any of you had any conversations with her?"

"Oh yeah, just the other day I was asking her about the weather," Francis said with a sarcastic smile. "We would've gone on about how unseasonably warm it's been this time of year, but we were too caught up in fighting for our God damn lives!"

"I've spoken to her," Zoey said, cutting off Francis' sarcastic humor. "So has Bill, but I don't know how much she understands. She doesn't respond with more than two words, three at the most. However she does pick up on visual cues and body language."

"Was she like this when all of you first met her?" Dr. Allen questioned, rather intrigued to know how a witch came into the company of four people fighting for their lives.

"No." Zoey said. "She was interested in us as a group and she appeared docile, but she couldn't speak. Body language was all she had, and even that was primal." Bill stiffened a little at that, remembering just how _primal _that body language was, especially with him.

"Any other unique characteristics?" Dr. Allen asked, one of the nurses nearby writing furiously.

"Well… she knows how to open doors, she knows all our names as well as her own, and ahh… oh she really likes honey."

Eris visibly blushed at the mention of the sugary treat. She remembered just how much Zoey and the others liked honey too, but that was behind her now. She hugged on Bill's arm gently, feeling a little ashamed at what she'd done before. She stared at Bill's face to see if his demeanor had changed. If the war vet was upset, he didn't show it. Zoey looked in confusion for a second, then turned away as her face turned red. Dr. Allen cocked an eyebrow at both women's sudden pink cheeks, but dismissed it with a shrug.

"We've received reports of… her kind… gravitating towards areas with a lot of sugar." Malory said from the other side of the room. "Be they old bakeries, sugar refinery mills, or actual sugar cane fields. Honey seems to be a favorite as well. Another squad claims to have seen one tear into a beehive to get the stuff. The bee stings had no effect on her, which might explain why the nurse wasn't able to draw a blood sample."

Dr. Allan glared at Malory for a moment, apparently miffed that he'd interjected with his own thoughts. Malory simply smiled as though a gentle breeze had blown by. "This sugar craving is yet another trait we'd like to learn more about." Dr. Allan said, checking his watch. "That aside, for now all of you will be in a high security area until we know you're not carriers. Eris will hopefully be permitted out of the quarantine area, but not without a full escort of soldiers. Sgt. Malory has graciously volunteered his squad to escort you all during those times, pending approval from the General."

Malory nodded from the other side of the room, though the quiet grumbles of his squad showed the volunteering was anything but unanimous.

"We also need to do something about those claws." Dr. Allen said, rubbing his chin in thought.

"Good luck if you're thinking of removing them," Zoey said. "While we were fighting off the infected on the roof, I accidentally swung my katana sword at her. Those claws blocked my swing like they were made of steel."

Dr. Allan shrugged. "We'll figure it out later. For now, let's get all of you to your temporary quarters." The CMO snapped his fingers. "Sgt. Malory, if you would be so kind?"

Sgt. Malory grumbled at the finger snapping, but motioned for his squad to escort the five new arrivals out of the decontamination/treatment building. "C'mon everyone, lets get you situated in your quarantine quarters," Malory said as his squad members took up their escort positions, leading the five out the door.

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"And that's the current status of our five visitors," the CMO said, sitting in a chair on the opposite side of a large desk. The man behind the desk nodded quietly, his hands folded together as if pondering what to do next.

"A witch at last, and a sentient one at that." He said in quiet surprise. "Have you acquired a blood sample?"

"Well… uh, we have the blood of the four potentially immune humans." Dr. Allan said, trying to put the question off. "If they are truly immune, we can finally cure the-"

"That is secondary." The man behind the desk said, dismissing it with a wave of his hand. "What about the witch?"

"Well, we were unable to draw her blood, hypodermic needles aren't durable enough. We're going to need something larger." Dr. Allan said. "Blood work aside, I think we could learn a lot from even one week of observation..."

The man behind the desk sighed quietly, rocking back in his chair. "You can have your week to observe her behaviors if that will satisfy your curiosity. However, once that week is up you are to proceed with acquiring both blood and brain tissue samples by any means necessary. Do I make myself clear, Dr. Allan?"

"But we've already learned as much as we can about the virus' effects on the brain." Dr. Allan said, half-lying. The truth was the virus actually had very different effects on the brain based on the subject. Such effects were evident in both the physical and mental mutations of the special infected. Tanks were aggressive and had no sense of self preservation, due to the virus creating tumors in the area of the brain around the pituitary gland. Under the extra pressure, the gland secreted excess hormones, resulting in immense muscle and bone growth. Hunters were stalkers, dependent upon hearing and smell waiting for the right instant to pounce on their prey without putting themselves in too much danger. In their brains, the virus damaged the cerebral cortex, which controlled eyesight. Witches were always very depressed and upset, avoiding contact if at all possible. However, they became single minded killing machines when focused on a target that made contact. They would not stop until they killed their target, after which they would attempt to flee almost out of fear or shame for what'd they'd done. Their behavior was entirely driven by their emotions, but they tended to change from depression, to rage, then to remorse or regret. This emotional shift was a trait none of the other special infected shared, and it was the only brain Dr. Allen didn't have a chance to study.

The anxious doctor knew this was common knowledge to not only his staff, but anyone who'd fought for their lives out there for more than an hour. But how his boss wanted to apply this knowledge…

The CMO's boss dismissed his concerns with a wave of one hand. "We've never captured a witch, nor any infected as… intelligent, as this one. Remember doctor, they are but wild animals, nothing more than humans who have been reverted to their basic and primal instincts due to the virus." The man said, glancing at a painting on the wall of a lion chasing a gazelle. "But… even wild animals can be trained."

The doctor clenched his fists in his lap, hidden beneath the front of the large desk. This was becoming an obsession to his boss. Dr. Allan didn't condone the idea of playing God. He merely wanted what everyone except his boss wanted: an end to this nightmare.

"She's nothing like the others." The CMO said sternly. "Whatever happened to her, she's now regaining her own sense of identity. Thinking of her as an 'animal' at this point is not only incorrect, it's dangerous. Personally I think those four survivors were the catalyst for her change in personality and her increased intelligence. They took care of her, accepted her as one of their own, despite the obvious danger. Consequently, Eris is very attached to those four. I don't…"

"Who?"

"Eris. That's the witch's name." Dr. Allan said, doing his best to hide his frustration. "She's very protective of the four new arrivals, as they are with her." The doctor mumbled to himself as he pondered it. "Especially that war veteran. It's like they're joined at the hip. I doubt she'd ever let go-."

"In a week, doctor, it won't matter." The man said, his lips curling into a grin that would send children running to their parents.

The doctor folded his hands in his lap, trying to keep them from trembling.

"In a week, one way or another, that witch will indeed… _let go_."

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A/N: They just can't get a break can they? Review!


	9. Premier Party

_**Legal Disclaimer: As stated before, characters Bill, Zoey, Louis, and Francis and the generic character of the "Witch" belong to Valve. The main plot about the zombie apocalypse is Valve's property as well. However, all other characters including, but not limited to, Eris, Malory, and Lenhart, belong to me. This subplot is mine as well.**_

_Mature Content Warning: This story contains sexual themes and should not be read by those under age 18. Granted if you are under age I can't stop you, but if you get caught and your parents throw a shit fit, do the right thing and take the blame for yourself. Don't get this story banned to avoid being grounded because you were careless. This story is rated "M" for a reason._

Authors Notes: Sorry for taking so long with this chapter. As I may have mentioned before, updates will be longer since a number of things are picking up for me lately. However, I stand by my promise, readers, in that I will NEVER leave this story unfinished. I deeply appreciate everyone's patience, as well as all the folks who've reviewed and sang their praises. You all make this so much more enjoyable. I love the reviews, so please keep 'em comin'!

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Chapter 9 – Premier Party

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The five survivors were escorted into the lower section of the medical building. Their footsteps echoed in the vacant stairwells as they descended into the lowest levels. The elevators were not an option given the number of people; Sgt. Malory refused to divide the groups for security reasons.

"I hate stairs," Francis mumbled.

"And I'd hate being crammed in an elevator with eleven people, especially one who complains as much as you do." Lenhart said to the biker. "Like 'em or not, stairs are more practical, so quit your griping."

"Stop burning a hole in my ass with your eyes and I'll stop complaining." Francis said with a chuckle. Lenhart growled quietly, she'd like to burn a real hole into the back of the arrogant prick.

Bill was quiet, taking in every detail as they descended. Even stairwells could hide secrets, especially ones with spy cameras. He'd first spotted one well placed aside a water pipe. Maybe it was simply heightened security, but it was hidden quite well. _"All military bases have security cameras. It's no secret that you're under surveillance at a military base, so why hide the cameras?" _Bill thought to himself.

Nearly every door the group passed was a typical stairwell door, with a painted number to indicate the level, or in this case basement sub level. However, the final doorway at the bottom of the stairs was more like a bank vault. It was solid, unpainted steel, with a camera system and a proximity card reader.

Malory brought his body close to the card reader, the light blinking "green" as it sensed his pocketed ID badge. The door opened with a hiss, slowly revealing the rather large hallway it guarded. The hallway before them was more like a prison cell block. Gone were the sterile white tile floors and painted walls of the upper levels. The floor was concrete, the high ceiling dull and unpainted. Stretching out on both sides were numerous rows of cells like one would find in a maximum-security prison. Every cell door was a dark gray with a small reinforced window in its center, a slot in the middle for delivering food, and a sliding card reader next to each door handle.

As the group passed the numerous doors, Zoey felt a chill pass up and down her spine. She noticed not only her comrades appeared unsettled, but their escort as well. Even Eris seemed wary, as though the gray woman could sense something amiss about this place.

"I thought we were going to quarantine, not death row," Louis mumbled.

"Around here, quarantine and the stockade are pretty much one and the same," Malory said, rubbing the back of his head with one hand. "I don't think it's very 'homey' either, but it's the only floor that has adequate security for our quarantine measures until we get the "OK" from the General. Once that's done, you four will be transferred to one of the barracks.

"Us four?" Zoey asked with a bit of hostility in her voice. "There's _five_ of us you know."

Malory sighed. He knew this was coming. He turned his back to the college girl as they continued down the hall. "Listen, I don't make the rules, I just enforce 'em."

"Don't use that bullshit excuse on me! You can't separate us! Why don't you just call all of us 'prisoners' and be done with it? Why the games huh?" Zoey asked, her temper flaring. She went to tap the Sergeant on the shoulder, until the sound of a quiet 'click' echoed behind her. She spun around to find the barrel of an SMG pointed in her direction. The soldier smirked as he aimed his weapon towards the college girl in a threatening fashion.

Eris stepped directly in front of Zoey, growling menacingly at the bold soldier. The grunt immediately lowered his weapon, feeling about two inches tall under the witch's amber glare.

Bill interjected, "Let's cut the bullshit. When are we going to meet this General? The sooner we do, the sooner all of us can be moved to 'warmer' accommodations."

"In due time," Malory said firmly. "It's late. I'm sure you're all hungry and you'd like to get some rest. Like Dr. Allan said, you'll have an answer in the morning. And so you know, you won't be staying in a 'cell' like what you see here. Instead, you'll be in an observation room.

The group reached the door at the end of the hall. This one was nearly as massive as the stairwell door, with yet another card reader. Malory cleared the lock with his badge and the group entered the next area. This section was more like the hospital with white floors and walls. There appeared to be four large rooms in this area, across from each other. At the end of the hall was an elevator with the same high-security features in place. To the left was a plexi-glass enclosed security station with several monitors and a guard half-asleep in the chair.

"You'll all be staying in observation rooms 3A and 3B." Malory said, pointing towards the "paired room" on the far right near the elevator. "There are extra cots in both rooms with blankets and such. You're all welcome to stay in one of the two joined rooms or split up, however you prefer."

Malory slid his card through the reader for observation room 3A. With a beep and a click, the heavy lock fell open and the door slid to the side. The five survivors filed into the large observation room. The entire room was like a hospital, with white walls and very bright fluorescent lighting. There was a bathroom door to the left which read, "Restroom and Decontamination Showers," and a doorway to the right labeled, "Testing Room 3B". The observation room had a standard wall with a window facing the main hallway. Inside a small two-way mirror allowed those to view whoever was in the room 3B directly. Steel bars framed the observation mirror in the other room, in case the "subject" got out of hand. Beneath the one-way mirror was a console station with computer terminals and other equipment. There was a small table with padded folding chairs near the computer console, and several cots were laid out in the remaining empty space.

"Some of the medical staff will be down shortly with food and toiletries," Malory said as the five looked around.

"You're going to leave us in a room with a bunch of computer equipment? That doesn't sound very secure to me." Louis said, staring at the large console station.

"You'll note that the computer equipment is enclosed in that console station, which is covered with a locked steel panel." Malory said with a little irritation, nodding towards the barred window. "Although even if it were open, you'd only be able to control environmental variables for the room next door which could make it very uncomfortable for whoever decides to stay in there." He finished, pointedly staring at the systems analyst. "There will be two soldiers on watch tonight…"

Malory paused as the men in his squad groaned.

"…one of which will be me." He finished with a sigh. He felt like a school teacher watching a bunch of bratty kids. "Anyone wanna volunteer for tonight?"

A silence fell over the Sergeant's squad for a few moments, all of them looking away quietly and avoiding eye contact.

"Sergeant, I'll volunteer." A voice said from the back of the group, pushing her way through the others.

"No need to twist _your_ arm eh, Lenhart?" Simmons said as the short female soldier made her way to the front of the group. Lenhart "accidentally" stomped on his foot as she made her way to the front.

"Sorry Simmons," she said casually.

The soldier hissed and swore a quiet blue streak as the others turned away from the female soldier's glare. Lenhart hated the way her squad mates looked down on her, the sexist tension hung heavy in the air. Just because she didn't have a pair of balls hanging between her legs didn't mean she couldn't kick ass with the rest of them. At the landing pad Lenhart had noticed the witch was splattered with as much blood as the four immune people, suggesting she'd done her fair share of fighting off death with her companions. The gray infected woman who'd fought along side the four survivors proved that gender had nothing to do with bravery or valor. Lenhart liked Malory because he was the only male soldier who treated her with respect. Even when she was out of line at the landing pad and he yelled at her, he didn't hold back because she was female. She knew no one else would volunteer for a night long shift to "baby sit" a bunch of new arrivals in quarantine, the other soldiers were too selfish for that. She saw the tension and stress the rest of the squad put on him; he deserved a break, or at least one squad member who would comply without groaning. Besides, she knew the time would pass that much faster if it were two people who actually liked each other's company.

Eris giggled at Simmons, the scene reminding her of the many times Zoey would physically chastise Francis for saying something stupid. Simmons' face reddened from embarrassment. Lenhart smirked at the witch, intrigued that the gray woman found humor in an otherwise tense moment. Perhaps she was more human than they thought…

"Ok. Lenhart and I have first watch. It's up to the rest of you to decide who goes for the following nights," Malory said to his squad. "In the meantime, you're dismissed."

The other five members filed out silently, taking the elevator for their ride back to the surface. The observation room door automatically slid shut behind them.

"So are we locked in here once that door is closed?" Zoey asked, her blue eyes narrowing as she stared at the two outnumbered soldiers.

"Yes…" Lenhart said, not liking where this was going.

"Don't worry, we'll be right outside should you need anything." Malory said, cool and calm. "There's an intercom button by the door to communicate with the security station. And even if for some reason you can't get to the intercom button," Malory said with a slight smile, "there are auditory sensors that will alert the security station in the event of an emergency. They pick up on loud noise like screams… or gunfire."

Zoey growled in frustration. Sgt. Malory was smarter than he looked. She still didn't like the idea that they might eventually be separated from Eris, and she'd hoped to gain some "bargaining power" on the issue with him and his eager little flunky locked in the room with them, but he was too clever for that.

The door hissed, sliding open again. The medical staff had arrived with everything the survivors would require for the first night. They carried fresh scrubs as well as towels and other toiletries. Another cart was wheeled in with several large brown plastic packages.

"We'll be in the security office should there be any… problems." Malory said curtly as he and Lenhart slipped past the medical staff and out the door.

"So where's the food?" Zoey asked, her sentence punctuated by her tummy growling.

"Right here." One of the medical staff answered, gesturing to the plastic brown packages.

"M.R.E.'s," Bill said with pleasant surprise. "Now _those_ take me back."

"What's an M.R.E.?" Louis asked.

"Meal Ready to Eat," Bill answered. "When you're in the field you can't exactly stop at a fast food joint for grub, so the Army created these food packages. They have a very long shelf life and have enough calories to sustain a soldier for an entire day. There're several types, and they come with just about everything, including coffee and desserts."

Louis grimaced as he picked up one labeled, "Corned Beef." In smaller writing below was a stamped number, "9954."

"What's this number mean?" Louis asked.

"The first two digits are the year, the second two digits are the day of the year it was packaged." Bill said

"What? 1999? This food is eleven years old!" Louis said. "You can't expect this stuff to be edible!"

"Trust me son, it is. These meals are designed to have a very long shelf life and not lose any taste or nutritional content," Bill said with a smile. "They're safe."

Francis simply shrugged. He'd eaten worse food in truck stops, and considering he hadn't eaten in days, even a decade old packaged Army meal sounded great. Zoey wrinkled her nose for a moment, but smiled when she saw how happy Bill was at remembering fond moments from his Army career. Hell, they hadn't eaten anything in several days, so even 11 year old "pickled" Army surplus food stuffs would do. Eris looked rather uninterested, but it wasn't like the M.R.E.'s gave off any sort of smell, pleasant or otherwise.

"Your friend is right, in that these M.R.E.'s have pretty much everything you'll need," a nurse said from the door, approaching the group. She had long black curls that reached past her shoulders, deep chocolate brown eyes, and a smooth ebony complexion. She stood tall, easily six feet, with a supple hourglass figure that was obvious even beneath her white lab coat. She didn't have a doctor's badge but she appeared to be in charge of the medical staff. "I'm R.N. Stevens, but you can call me Alexis."

"Nice to meet you Alexis," Bill said, shaking her hand. "This is Zoey, Louis, and Francis," he continued as each of the survivors shook her hand politely. "And this is…"

"Eris?" Alexis asked with a smile as she faced the witch. "My name is Alexis." The gray goddess stared at the tall dark woman for a moment, noticing her hand was extended like the man from earlier. She carefully extended her own hand, mimicking the survivors' gesture of greeting. Alexis gently grasped Eris' hand and pumped it twice. Eris looked in puzzlement; this woman didn't even hesitate to approach her, whereas the other new humans setting things up made sure to keep a healthy distance from her.

"Allexxiss…" Eris said, earning a smile from the R.N.

"Dr. Allan has told me a lot about you." She said. "Including that you probably wouldn't be very hungry for typical food, so he had me bring you this," she finished, producing a large jar of honey from one of her deep lab coat pockets. She chuckled as the witch's amber eyes seemed to light up at the sight of the sugary substance, still sealed in the jar. She handed it over to the eager gray woman who tenderly held it with both hands.

"Where did you guys find honey?" Zoey asked, a little annoyed that the rest of them would have to do with army surplus preserved food.

"The military does supply runs all the time, raiding grocery stores for whatever hasn't spoiled. As it turns out, Dr. Allan likes honey in his morning tea, so he has several jars. He asked me to bring this with his regards, and that Eris is welcome to all the honey we have here at the base."

"That was… very nice of him," Zoey said while staring at Eris. She was trying to keep her poker face together, which was becoming more difficult. The witch looked like a kid with an ice cream cone the way she held the jar of honey, and Zoey wanted so much to squeeze her in a hug. She loved seeing her happy almost as much as Bill did.

The war vet smiled gratefully at Alexis. "Please tell him Eris says tha-" Bill started.

"Thaank yoou," Eris sang with a big smile, cutting him off.

"You're welcome," Alexis said, grinning even more. "I can see why you're all so attached to her, she's so sweet."

"And yet Dr. Allan insists on keeping her here," Zoey mumbled bitterly.

"Don't worry about Dr. Allan, he's just following protocol on the record. Off the record, I think he'd much rather all of you get out of this sterile room and into some living quarters." Alexis said as her staff finished setting everything up. "He's most intrigued to see Eris interact with the four of you and the others around the base, so I'm sure he'll find a way to get all of you out of here together. I don't blame him; just from meeting her I can't wait to see how she is around other people too."

"Ms. Stevens, everything is set." One of the staff said, gesturing to the opened M.R.E.'s on the table.

"Well then, we'll leave you to get situated. It was nice to meet all of you and I'll see you in the morning," Alexis said as she followed her staff out. The door slid shut once again, sealing the five survivors in the room.

"I don't know about you, but I'm famished," Louis said as he sat down at the table, sorting through the contents of his meal.

"Same here," Zoey said. They all sat at the table together and dug into their meals, their mouths watering at the sustenance. Eris twisted the lid off her golden-jarred prize and began drinking the sugary substance with earnest. All of them ate ravenously for a moment before slowing down. None of them wanted to eat too fast only to throw up the only sustenance they'd had in days. Bill was actually forced to eat slowly, since holding utensils was difficult for his injured hands.

"Soomff… whachu thnk bout this pls?" Zoey said around a mouthful of cheese tortellini.

"Mmmph… I hate it," Francis said after swallowing a large bite of chicken.

Bill swallowed his food, "I think there's a lot more here than a simple military base, even if they're working on research and development." The others nodded in agreement, except for Eris who was still slurping her honey the way a parched man guzzles water. "I'll have a better handle on things once we meet the General. For now, I think all of us should try to get a decent night's sleep."

"Speaking of which…" Louis said, spotting a note and several pill capsules on the table. He opened the folded paper and read it briefly. "This note says these pills are a generic sleeping drug to help us relax." The systems analyst smiled, picking up one of the pills. "I know I could use..."

The dark man went quiet as the other three survivors stared blankly at him.

"Louis you aren't seriously going to take those pills are you?" Zoey asked. "Who knows what's really in them."

"Yeah I know Zoey." Louis said with a sigh as he placed it down. "But I don't know how I'm gonna fall asleep tonight. Sure we're out of the fight, but even if I trusted the guys running this place, I know I'd still jerk awake reflexively. Fighting for your lives at every step… knowing your enemy never sleeps… it makes anyone skittish. Really, when was the last time any of us had a decent nights rest?"

Francis shook his head after chugging a bottle of water. "Can't say I blame 'white collar.' That pill fetish of his…"

"That's funny Francis. Why don't you take your leather vest, your moustache, and your chaps, and go find yourself a parade." Louis quipped, before taking another bite of his meal.

"I don't see what's wrong with the vest…" Francis mumbled, tugging on his peach scrub top.

Zoey stared quietly at Louis as she ate. She remembered the last good night's sleep they had when their gray companion had joined them, the memories curling her lips into a smile.

"What about the sleeping arrangements?" She asked, attempting to shake the memory before she got herself excited.

"Would the ladies prefer this room while the gentlemen take the testing room?" Bill asked with a smile.

Zoey giggled. "That's fine for me and Eris to be in this room and you and Louis to be in the other, but where does that leave Francis? He's no gentleman." Louis and Bill had a laugh at that one. Francis wasn't listening, having returned his attention solely to his meal.

Eris put the large jar down with a sigh and licked her lips; she'd devoured nearly half of its contents. Zoey grimaced, the thought of consuming that much honey made her feel sick, but Eris seemed quite satisfied. She smiled at Bill and licked the honey from her lips, a small trickle still dribbling down her chin. Bill gently touched her chin with his finger to catch the errant strand. The witch immediately sucked the war vet's finger between her soft lips, staring at him with hungry eyes.

"Then again, you and Eris could always take the other room, while me, Zoey and Francis take this one." Louis said with a knowing smile.

"Works for us," Bill said with a smirk as he pulled his finger from his lover's lips. She pouted playfully, scooting closer to him.

"No problem here," Zoey said. "How bout you Francis?"

The biker didn't answer. He was face-down in his empty plate, the wrappers and utensils half scattered about the table. A slightly muffled snore emanated from under his face.

"That answers that I guess," Zoey said. Bill yawned and stretched as he and Eris stood from the table. Francis had the right idea, just the wrong place. The gray goddess smiled at her lover, tugging him by his arm towards the other room.

"Goodnight everyone," Bill said to his two conscious friends as the door to room 3B slid open.

"Goodnight you two," Zoey said as she and Louis helped move Francis from the table into one of the empty cots. It almost felt like they were carrying a dead body; the sleeping biker was completely out of it.

"Gooodnniiiggghhht," Eris sang happily before leading Bill into the other room. The door slid shut, the sounds of Eris' muffled giggles barely audible through the door.

Louis chuckled and stretched as a yawn escaped his lips. "Y'know, I think I agree with you about what you said in the showers Zoey."

"What was that?" She asked.

"About being jealous," Louis said thoughtfully, looking through the observation glass. "In a way, I… I guess I am a little jealous of the two of them."

The college student gently patted the system's analysts' hand. "And what exactly are you jealous of, Louis?"

"That they're both in love." Louis said as he rubbed his chin. "I mean I don't wish anything different. Bill and Eris deserve to be happy, and the fact that their love bloomed from this zombie nightmare is the most amazing thing of all. I guess _I_ kinda wanted that too someday."

"You wanted love out of a zombie apocalypse?" Zoey asked slyly.

"You know what I meant," Louis said with a lop-sided smile.

Zoey gave him a sisterly kiss on the cheek. "If it matters, I love you."

Louis pulled her into a hug. "Of course it does. _You _matter a lot."

The college student blushed as she squeezed him back. "I'm glad. You guys are all very special to me."

"Even the snoring smart-ass over there?" Louis asked, nodding in the sleeping biker's direction.

"Yes," Zoey said, rolling her eyes as she let go of her friend. She turned off the lights before she and Louis settled into their cots, a little ambient light coming through the small viewing window facing the hallway. Louis lay next to Zoey, his cot to her left, while Francis sawed wood in the cot to her right. The college student pulled the blanket over herself, leaning on her left shoulder to stare at the dark man as he got comfortable.

"And by the way…" she said quietly. "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't jealous too."

"Aw, that's just because you know the two of them won't share," Louis said with a soft laugh.

"No." The college girl said, her voice a mixture of sobering seriousness and thoughtful reflection. "They're in love; I would never come between them. I'm so happy that they're happy. I'm just… I'm jealous for the same reason you are."

Louis stared at her for a moment in the darkness, answering with silence as his head hit the pillow. Zoey sighed quietly, hoping sleep would come easier than it had the last several nights. As her eyes fluttered shut, she felt Louis' hand on hers.

"I love you too."

Her lips curled into a smile as she drifted off to sleep.

.

* * *

.

Bill and Eris got situated in the adjacent room. It was essentially a mirror image of the observation room, except this room didn't house any computer equipment. There was a bathroom and shower behind a slightly open door, a small table with chairs, and two cots near the one-way mirror. A folded pile of sheets and blankets was left on one of the cots.

"Time for sleep," Bill said, gently touching Eris' face with his bandaged hand.

"Nooo sleeeep…" Eris moaned, wrapping her arms around her lover. She nuzzled his neck and half-purred, half-yawned near his ear. Bill couldn't help but chuckle at her attempt to seduce him. His witchy woman was overly tired, and she was fighting sleep like an excited child.

The old war vet stared at the two cots then at his lover. Though he was used to sleeping on just about anything, the idea of sleeping on a cot that looked like it could barely hold Zoey was not reassuring. The cots stood about as high as a bed and had a thin mattress, almost like a fold out couch. Eris cocked an eyebrow at the two flimsy "beds" and scrunched up her nose.

"I have an idea," he said thoughtfully before tipping one of the cots over. The flimsy mattress wasn't attached, as he suspected. Eris followed suit, tipping the other cot over. Bill pushed the two mattresses together on the floor and attempted to spread out the folded sheets and tuck them under the mattresses. Due to his hands, he couldn't get it perfect like his old army days where the drill sergeant would bounce a quarter off his made bed, but this would do.

"There we go, one 'double' bed," he said as he turned out the light. Eris sat on the mattresses, her glowing eyes a beacon for Bill to find his way back in the darkness. As the steel-eyed man lay down his lover scooted next to him, having a little difficulty pulling the blankets up with her claws. Bill stared at her smiling face and tenderly kissed her as they snuggled together.

"Goodnight Eris," he whispered.

"Gooooodniiiigght Biilll," Eris whispered in her melodious voice. She kissed him, slipping her tongue into his mouth. Their lips locked in tender affection as the war vet's bandaged hands slid behind the witch's back. She moaned into his mouth, his touch sending goose bumps up and down her body. Her nipples poked through her scrubs top, pushing into her lover's chest.

Bill pulled her closer, despite the dull throbbing pain in his palms. His scrub bottoms were straining as his excitement reached his groin. Who was he kidding? Sleep would come when they were both damn well ready for it. They'd been through hell together. They'd fought of hundreds of crazed zombies, battled a tank, and saved each other's lives in the most epic battle ever. Finally they had both time and space to themselves, away from the danger and chaos. Neither of them wanted to squander the time with sleep.

Eris broke the kiss and smiled playfully, feeling her lover poking her tummy through the scrubs clothing. She purred and bit her lip; she wanted these clothes _off_! She growled with lust, throwing the blankets off and straddling her man. Her legs wrapped around Bill's lower back as he sat up. She raised her arms and Bill slid her top over her head. His hands ached, but the pain was more than worth it as her large breasts came into view. Eris slid her claws under Bill's top and ripped it apart at the seams, exposing his chest.

"Oh, someone's eager," Bill said with a wry grin, breathing hotly and lightly biting at Eris' hardened nipples.

"Eeeaaggerrrr….rrrrgghhh," Eris groaned, her lover's teasing driving her crazy. Bill bucked his hips up as he nibbled her, his covered manhood poking at her moistening crotch. She rubbed herself on him as he sucked at her breasts like a starving infant. Eris felt her heart race and her cheeks flush as her temperature rose. They'd barely gotten started and she was already so hot and so wet for him. Bill was thrusting his hips up rhythmically as his own passion escalated. Eris loved how they could excite each other so quickly and in such a short time. The two lovers panted as they shamelessly humped each other through their clothes.

"Mooorrree…" she moaned, pushing Bill away from her chest. She stood up, towering over him like the voluptuous gray goddess that she was. She slid her claws into the elastic band of her bottoms, sliding them down her supple thighs with little effort. Bill was surprised she didn't simply rip them to pieces like she did his top, but he wasn't complaining. He lay on his back, hastily shuffling his own bottoms off as well. Eris' glowing eyes widened in surprise as his erection came into view. She licked her lips hungrily. She wanted him so bad she could taste him.

And by God she was going to do just that.

Eris laid aside her lover and wasted no time wrapping her lips around his manhood. Bill groaned loudly before bringing a bandaged hand to his mouth. He had to keep his voice down or everyone would know what they were up to. The gray goddess moaned in her throat, the taste of her lover's flesh and pre-cum making her head swim. The war vet panted like a marathon runner as the witch's tongue licked and teased his swollen head. The first time she did this he'd passed out, and if she continued sucking him like this he'd probably be knocked out a second time. He could smell her arousal as she pleasured him, her wet white garden near his head as she lay on her side.

Bill reached out with a bandaged hand and gently stroked her inner thighs, eliciting a shiver from his lover. She scooted her lower half closer as he teased her, his fingers barely grazing the hidden treasures beneath her white garden. Eris whimpered as she sucked him, dying to be under his tongue. Her pheromones were getting to the war vet as well, exciting him into a frenzy.

With a grunt, the war vet squeezed his lover's soft cheeks and rolled her onto him. Eris yelped in surprise at the sudden change in position, but quickly resumed sucking her man's throbbing hard-on as he stabbed into her engorged "lips." Bill licked and pulled on Eris' "lips" with his own as she sucked him faster, the base of her claws wrapping around what she couldn't fit in her mouth. The war vet sealed his mouth around the goddess' pleasure apex, jabbing his tongue into her recesses to taste every bit of her essence. Eris got creative and sandwiched Bill between her bosom, tenderly licking and suckling at the head. Bill let out a muffled groan, pressing his face between his lover's legs and pumping himself between his gray goddess' breasts and into her wanton mouth.

Like a sexual perpetual motion machine, the two lovers fed off each other, the passion cycling through them faster and faster. Eventually Eris could take no more. She pushed her tits together hard around her lover's pole and cried out loudly as her dam burst, flooding her lover's face. Bill groaned as he pressed his face into the gray goddess' dripping sex, squeezing her ass cheeks as his own eruption blasted from him. He wriggled his tongue faster as she came, making her entire body shiver.

Eris gasped as the first hot spurt shot onto her face, but quickly engulfed her lover's pulsing manhood, not wanting to miss another drop. Bill's hips convulsed as rope after rope of white passion erupted from him, every thrust bringing a moan of approval from his lover. She whimpered in frustration as some of her hot sticky reward escaped her lips and ran down her chin. There was just so much and she simply couldn't swallow it all. With a reluctant suckle, she pulled away from his still throbbing manhood.

Bill growled lustily, nearly throwing Eris off his chest as he sat up. His lover certainly knew how to get his fire burning. She stared at him with apprehension, leaning on her claws like an animal about to break into a run. The look on his face was a confusing cross between intense aggression and mindless lust.

"Biilll?" She asked with a little nervousness. She turned on her hands and knees to get up, but Bill was on her in a second. She gasped in shock as he tackled her, pinning her to the ground. He slid his hands under her chest, pinching at her nipples with more than a little force. She cried out in pain and pleasure, feeling confused at her lover's actions. The aggressive war vet bit at her neck as he hovered over her body, his hard "soldier" poking at her rump. She whimpered as he pawed on her, actually feeling a little afraid.

"Shhh..." Bill hushed her, nibbling at her ear. He could tell she was nervous, and although it turned him on, he loved her too much to let her think she'd done something wrong. "It's ok sweetheart. I love you…"

"Looovee yooouuuuoooohhhhh!" She started to say before crying out in surprise as Bill buried himself inside her. It was sudden and forceful, though it still felt incredible. Her muscles clenched around his unmoving manhood.

"But right now, I just want to fuck you," He said simply.

"Fuuucckkk yooouu..?" Eris asked innocently, looking over her shoulder at him.

That was too much for the war vet.

Bill plowed into her so hard, he swore he was in her stomach. Eris yelled as she braced herself, her claws digging into the mattress as she hung on for dear life. Her cries came out in short bursts as she was drilled like a Texas oil field. She tried lifting her ass in the air, but it was immediately grounded by the war vet's relentless pounding. Bill's muscled arms felt like two pillars pinning her to the floor by her shoulders. The war vet wasn't entirely sure what got into him, maybe it was that incredible blow job or his lover's sexy innocent look when he tackled her, but right now he simply couldn't screw his lover hard enough.

"Haah… haah… haah… Bii-aahhhghh… Biilll…. ahhh!" Eris cried out. Her lover's aggression scared her at first, she confused it with him being angry, but now she knew what it really was. This was the raw lustful dominance she remembered enjoying with him in the bedroom. Her carnal desires were so strong she was often the aggressor while he was submissive, but this time the tables were turned, and she loved it. He was so masculine, and even though her own strength easily outmatched his three-fold, his dominance made her feel weak. Frankly she doubted she could stop him right now even if she wanted to. She bit at the mattress, tears running from her eyes as her man drilled her even harder.

"Moooreee... haahh... haahh... pllee... haah... pleeasssee... Biiillll," she gasped, half turning her head on the mattress to look at Bill. "Fuuucckkk meeeee... mmoooorrreee."

"Come for me," Bill commanded as he slammed her into the floor with his hips. Though he'd just finished, his second orgasm was already on the way. "C'mon sweetheart, soak me with it!"

"Rrrggh….haah…haah… Billl… coommmiinnggg…" Eris cried out, her lover's dirty talk causing her to climax again. "Loooveee.. yoouuu….Gyaaahhh!"

Bill's gasps broke into a roar. "… love... you... Eris… Aaarrrgghhh!"

They screamed together, Bill no longer caring if anyone heard them. Eris bent her knees, bringing her ankles to her lover's butt, effectively pinning him inside her as he came. The war vet pushed his entire body against his lover's smooth gray back, her long white hair matted beneath his sweaty chest. Bill suckled at Eris' earlobe as she purred contently, feeling her lover's liquid passion mixing with her own inside her womb. The two lovers broke apart then lay facing each other, the relaxing aftermath of their lovemaking guiding them into a blissful slumber.

"Eeyyyee loooveee yoouu, Biilll," Eris sighed, her eyes fluttering in exhaustion.

"And I love you Eris. I love you so much." Bill said, kissing her tenderly as sleep overtook them.

.

* * *

.

"Everyone is situated for the night," Alexis said to the Sergeant, standing less than two feet away from him. The inside of the security station was small, cramped with sophisticated monitoring equipment. Security monitors lined the lower parts of the walls, and a small break table held the center of the room. The entire space was barely large enough for two people to sit comfortably, let alone three people standing.

"Thank you Alexis. They weren't any trouble were they?" Malory asked. Alexis giggled, taking his question as flirtatious concern. Behind the Sergeant, Lenhart rolled her eyes.

"Not at all, but it's very sweet of you to be concerned about me," the dark woman said, smiling at him like a shark after a minnow.

Malory swallowed hard. He wasn't trying to flirt with the RN, yet she was coming onto him strong. He'd always suspected Alexis had a thing for him, a fact which surprised the Sergeant, since he always thought the medical staff was unanimous in their superiority complex over the soldiers. Then again, she was different. She cared about people, cared about performing above and beyond what was expected. Just like…

"Just doing my job," he said curtly, before stealing a glance over at Lenhart. Her expression reminded him of the witch's face when she'd met Dr. Allan, stoic and unreadable.

"Well I know you both have a long night ahead of you, so I brought you a little something," Alexis said, smiling politely at Malory and Lenhart. She signaled to one of her staff members who brought in a large pot of coffee and two cups, along with a box of doughnuts.

"You didn't have to…" Malory started.

"Just doing my job," Alexis answered curtly, faux mocking Malory, before winking at him. "If you need _anything, _be sure to call on me," she said with a giggle as Malory's face broke into a red blush. Alexis loved flirting with him, primarily because he was so well mannered that he'd never act on it, although she certainly wouldn't mind if he did. Even through his BDU's, Alexis could see the Sergeant's hardened frame. The gorgeous, corn-fed, muscled white boy looked like he could throw down all night long.

The petite female soldier felt like gagging. If that RN was any more forward, she'd be on her knees unbuckling the Sergeant's pants right now. She knew why it bothered her so much, though she doubted Malory understood. He'd likely chalk it up to nothing more than catty jealousy. The Sergeant stole a glance at her, but she didn't give any inclination she was irritated. The moment his back was turned however…

Alexis caught Lenhart glaring at her with daggers for eyes. She could sense the sexual tension hanging in the air wasn't just between herself and the handsome squad leader.

She simply couldn't resist stirring things up a bit.

Before Alexis turned to leave, she stepped right up to Malory. She made to brush some errant dust off his BDU like an attentive girlfriend and sighed, "I wish I were enlisted, then I could spend aaalllll night making sure you stayed _up, _Sergeant."

Malory swallowed again as the dark woman purred at him before walking out, her supple round ass ticking back and forth like a clock's pendulum.

Alexis filed into the elevator with her staff, and as the doors closed Malory let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. Lenhart stood quietly on the other side of the small table, her hands behind her back in a classic "parade rest" stance. Her army beret was in her hands, and if she pulled and clenched on it any tighter she'd draw blood from her palms.

"Well that was… awkward," Malory said, clearing his throat. He took a seat at the small table, pouring himself a cup of coffee. He thought about sitting in the chair in front of the console, but dismissed it. The auditory alarm would sound if there was any sort of a scuffle, and frankly he doubted the five new arrivals had enough energy to make a peep, considering what they'd been through. The female soldier released her death grip on her beret and sat across from him.

"Awkward isn't the word I'd pick, sir." Lenhart responded almost coldly, pouring herself a cup of coffee as well. She tore open a couple sugar packets then add some powered creamer to her cup. Malory drank his liquid caffeine straight and black, but apparently Lenhart liked hers a little bit doctored. He couldn't help but notice her up close as he watched her prepare her drink. Her light brown hair was pulled back and done up into a bun, he imagined it was about shoulder length and would look very beautiful if she wore it down. Her eyes were brown with some very faint crow's feet underneath, no doubt from stress and a lack of sleep, common faire for all the soldiers at this base. Her face was only a little pale, her cheeks dotted with light freckles. She certainly was cute.

Feeling eyes on her, Lenhart's gaze snapped up to lock eyes with Malory, who immediately looked away. The petite soldier felt the corners of her mouth turn up as she sipped her coffee. She was a little flattered that he was staring at her, though this wasn't the first time. Her cold exterior melted as she thought about what'd just happened. She couldn't completely fault her superior officer for that promiscuous RN's behavior; it wasn't his fault he was damn good looking.

The two of them sat there for a while in silence as the minutes ticked away. The sergeant sighed quietly. _"Awkward sums it up pretty well right now." _He thought to himself. Lenhart had produced a small novel from one of her BDU pockets, while Malory read an old newspaper left on the security terminal that predated the infection by a good couple weeks. It was like most typical daily papers, with nothing of any real interest, especially considering the world as they knew it was no more.

"Thanks for volunteering tonight Lenhart," Malory said, trying to make small talk.

"My pleasure," she said, her voice softening. Malory cocked an eyebrow in confusion. "Hell I'd much rather do this with you then have to deal with Simmons or one of those other whiny pigs I call squad mates," she finished. The Sergeant nodded quietly. So that was it. She saw the others as a bunch of sexist boys trying to play "soldier." He couldn't blame her. He noticed the way the other men treated her like some faux G.I. Jane, which was funny since none of the men under his command were "officially" enlisted like him. All of them were just lucky souls who'd managed to survive the viral outbreak and fortunate enough to get rescued. They were essentially "drafted" because they had no other choice. Women were never drafted as infantry, but Lenhart had signed up on her own accord, a fact that puzzled the Sergeant.

"We make do with what we have I guess," Malory replied, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Be it supply runs or rescuing 'new recruits,' sometimes you find just enough to get by, and sometimes you hit the jackpot." He smiled slightly, "Like when I found you."

Lenhart blushed visibly, remembering that day. She was living in a small apartment working two jobs when the infection hit full force. She counted herself lucky as being one of the few young women who not only owned a 9mm pistol, but could use it without losing her head. She'd held up in her place as long as her supplies held out, but once the water main was cut she knew she'd have to move. She barely remembered how she managed to escape her apartment; most of her memories were repressed blurs of screams, gunfire, and gore. She'd broken into a barricaded, albeit abandoned convenience store and was frantically stuffing a backpack full of what little food and water remained. One of those leaping hooded types had followed her, but she didn't know it until the creature had pounced on her. It screeched like a banshee as it tore through her clothes faster than a hot knife into butter. Its screams were loud and terrifying, matching her own cries of terror. Just as it was about to tear into her flesh, several rounds from an M16 ripped through its skull, collapsing it in a heap. When her panic faded and the smoke cleared, she saw the man who'd given her a second chance. He was strong, throwing the dead hooded infected off her with one arm. Maybe it was just the "damsel in distress" syndrome, but the first thing she noticed was how handsome he was. She was slack jawed and speechless, but she figured that had more to do with the fact that her life had just flashed before her eyes than a crush. The last thing she'd remembered was the commanding soldier signaling and yelling to someone else as the world faded to black.

"You found a young woman who'd gotten pounced on and promptly passed out," Lenhart said with a chuckle. "I don't think I'd call that a 'jackpot' as far as a new recruit."

"The simple fact that you made it as far as you did, makes you one of the most resourceful people I've rescued out there." Malory replied, casually removing his BDU jacket and exposing his upper half covered in a tight brown army issue t-shirt. He removed his beret next, exposing his dark brown hair. It was cut short, but curly in the front. He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, the security station's small size left it with little ventilation and it was already getting hot. "Sorry… it's pretty warm in here." Malory said apologetically before continuing. "You were _alone_, armed with only a 9mm pistol. The sheer fact that you made it to that convenience store proves that you're an incredible soldier, or incredibly lucky."

"I'll go with incredibly lucky," she said, trying not to burn a hole in his chest while sipping her coffee. Malory thought about that day as well, considering himself incredibly lucky to have found her, not only because she'd have been ripped to pieces otherwise, but because he didn't know what his life would be like if he hadn't met her.

"I'll go with just incredible," he blurted out before promptly shutting his mouth. That sounded like such a cheesy line, but he wasn't trying to come on to her like that. He had a great deal of respect for her and meant his words with complete and utter sincerity.

A silence filled the room for a moment as their eyes locked. Lenhart felt her heart flutter a little at his blunt compliment; surely he wasn't trying to hit on her… was he? She was reminded of how hard she'd fallen for him when he rescued her. She never acted on her feelings, since she had no idea how he felt about her. Initially she didn't know very much about him, except that he'd been a soldier since he was old enough to vote, and that he'd lost his wife of one year to the infection. Thinking about it, Malory was the only reason she agreed to join the enlisted ranks of the army. She was sold the moment she awoke to his smiling face and a canteen of water at her lips.

"_Mmphh… *cough cough*… wha?" She gasped as water washed over her lips and face. Her shirt felt ripped and slashed, but a soldier's BDU covered her otherwise exposed chest. "What happened?"_

"_Hey you're awake," the man leaning over her said as he closed the lid on the canteen. "You took a pretty fierce pounce from that hunter; luckily he didn't get a chance to really dig into you." _

_She wasn't really listening, she was caught up in his eyes; they were alert yet tired, hard yet soft. It was a rather pleasant conundrum. The next thing she noticed was his muscular arms and chest, covered by nothing more than a brown t-shirt. The other solders riding in the vehicle had their uniforms, but he was missing his BDU top. She realized he'd thrown it over her in a gentlemanly gesture to cover her._

"_You ok?" He asked. She was spacing out, staring up at him._

"_Uh... yeah. Just… shocked." She said. She went to sit up but she felt dizzy._

"_Take it easy there," he said, laying her back down. "What's your name?" He asked._

"_Heather…" She replied, almost unsure. Everything was a jumble in her head._

"_Nice to meet you Heather. My name's Xavier," he said with a smile, "but most folks call me Malory, or Sergeant Malory as the case may be."_

She remembered every detail from that day. He'd explained what happened, where they were headed, and how there were some civilians left at the base, but how they were short on soldiers he was out on more and more of these "reconnaissance" missions. They shared each other's grievances and losses when the infection exploded into a national epidemic. Lenhart had convinced herself that she joined out of duty to her fellow man, to help rescue others the way she'd been saved, but the truth was she wanted to be near _him _more than anything, even if that meant putting her life on the line to fight the zombie hordes.

Lenhart sighed. Seeing Malory like this, his muscular arms and chest barely hidden beneath the thin t-shirt, ignited a fire in her belly like the first time she'd talked to him. She hadn't been intimate in a long time, and she figured that went both ways. Was that what drove him to be so "forward" or was there more to his actions?

"Yeah it is warm in here. I'm surprised they didn't install a ceiling fan," she mumbled, removing her own BDU jacket. Malory did his best not to stare, but it was a losing fight. She wasn't wearing a bra, and her peach-sized breasts looked delectable hidden beneath her army issue t-shirt. Her arms were dotted with goose bumps, but he doubted it had anything to do with the temperature of the room. Malory mentally chastised himself for staring at her. He didn't want to lose her respect by coming off as a lustful bastard.

Lenhart felt Malory's eyes roving over her body, even if only for a moment when his fear of being caught caused him to look away nervously. Though the preceding events could all be taken as very innocent, the sexual tension hung so heavily in the air she thought she might suffocate. The man across from her wasn't staring at her like a subordinate, or even a comrade, but a woman. She'd wanted him for a while, but opportunities to subtly drop hints were few and far between. This was the perfect opportunity to see if her intuition was on target.

Lenhart causally grabbed a Boston Crème doughnut from the box. "So…" she said quietly, leaning on the table and biting into the sugar-stuffed treat. "What do you think of the situation?"

"Huh?" Malory said absently. A glob of the white creamy filling was smeared on Lenhart's lips. Surely she'd notice that much filling on her chin. "Uh… you've got some…"

"Thanks," the petite soldier said, lancing her tongue out to lick the errant frosting. She smiled inwardly at the Sergeant's face turning red. "So… what do you think?"

"_You don't wanna know what I'm thinking right now," _Malory thought to himself. _"You'd probably kick my ass into my head..." _She stared at him, waiting for his reply. "Huh?"

"The situation," she repeated, taking another bite. "This is the first time I've ever seen a witch act so… well… human."

Malory cleared his throat. "Oh that. Yeah I have to admit she's unique. She's got a lot of human like characteristics and mannerisms, but at the same time exhibits that primal behavior the infected have." He said, his knuckles supporting his chin as he leaned forward, his eyes dropping to his half empty coffee cup. "She's very protective of her friends."

"Especially that war veteran," Lenhart said, leaning closer to Malory while holding the half-eaten doughnut loosely in one hand. "The way she stares at him like a lovesick puppy… like there's no other man on earth for her. She clings to him like a…"

"Like a lover," Malory said quietly, looking up from his coffee and into Lenhart's brown eyes.

"Yeah," the cute female soldier said softly, her pastry falling onto the table. "Like a lover..."

The two leaned towards each other, an unmistakable look of passion in their eyes. It was like a wild fantasy was about to become reality. She wanted him, even if only for one night. She needed closure, and while she hoped it would be more than a simple desire for companionship, it would at least put her mind at ease.

"Heather…" he whispered. He hoped he wasn't imagining this; that it wasn't just lust blurring his vision. He'd been trying to hide his feelings for her since the day he'd rescued her. At first he thought his feelings were simply a coping mechanism for his lost wife, but as time passed he realized that wasn't the case. This silence was maddening. He wanted to hear her say she wanted him. He wanted to hear her cries of passion as he ravished her.

Unfortunately the first noise to break the silence was a sudden beep from the auditory alarm.

Malory sprung from his seat and quickly checked the surveillance monitors. The auditory alarms sensed sudden increases in volume and would enable voice transmission on the cameras so the security team could hear what was going on. This helped prevent false alarms calling a security team, such as an argument between two people.

"What is it?" Lenhart asked as she stared at Malory hunched over the surveillance monitors. He was completely silent, leaning over the equipment as though he'd seen a ghost. She quickly made her way around the table, but not before a sultry moan emitted from the speaker system.

Lenhart stopped dead in her tracks. "Was that…? Uh, Malory? You ok?"

No response. He was still leaned over the equipment. She pulled her radio from her belt. The device beeped once, indicating it was establishing a link, but the radio was promptly yanked from her hand causing her to yelp in surprise. Malory stood in front of her, his chest heaving and his eyes wide. He looked like a man on the verge of exploding, his expression a cross between shocked and very aroused. He pulled her towards the monitors and turned up the volume. Another sultry moan came from the speakers, and Lenhart's jaw fell open at the sight caught on camera.

The two soldiers watched the witch and the war vet pleasure each other in the classic 69 position. The old vet was lapping and sucking at the witch's love garden like no tomorrow, and she in turn was sucking him with more vigor and zeal than a porn star on the first Take.

"Oh my God…" Lenhart stammered. She'd suspected the witch was more human than she put forth, but she never imagined this. Watching the two of them was shocking, but it was also an incredible turn on.

"I… I guess you were right about them," Malory said quietly, a quiver in his voice. He punched a button on another console to get a view from a different angle. The camera zoomed in on the witch sucking her lover from the front, her large breasts sandwiched around his pole as she licked his head. The witch cried out as she came, soaking her lover's face. Malory glanced over at Lenhart, her eyes locked to the screen. Her nipples looked like they were about to rip through her t-shirt.

Lenhart found herself scooting closer to Malory as the lovers on camera changed things up. The old war veteran tackled the witch as though she were making to leave, but there wasn't any indication of struggle. He pinned her down and began whispering in her ear; unfortunately the speaker system couldn't quite pick up on it.

"Move over," Lenhart whispered, trying to get closer to the small viewing monitor. Instead, Malory let her take front row center, straddling her as they both leaned over the console together. Lenhart saw the Sergeant's muscular arms land on either side of her own. She felt his hard chest on her back and she could feel his breathing on her neck. She trembled… this was becoming too much. The position they were both in nearly mirrored what they saw on the screen. It was clear he wanted her, but he probably wouldn't act on it for fear of being wrong. She wasn't going to get another opportunity like this one.

Taking a deep breath, she quietly began unfastening her pants.

"Jesus Christ," Malory mumbled. His pants were about to rip, this was all so intense. The war vet began screwing his gray lover with such force that Malory nearly backed away from the screen. He huddled in close again, unknowingly pressing his crotch against Lenhart's uncovered ass. "What the…" he stammered. Her pants were down, a pair of pink panties being the only barrier between her cute ass and the air. Lenhart looked over her shoulder, biting at her lower lip.

"Heather… I don't…" She cut him off, kissing his lips as she turned around, half leaning on the console.

"Xavier," she gasped, breaking the kiss. "I'm gonna ask you something, and I want you to just answer me. Don't think about it, just answer… ok?" He nodded silently.

"That day you rescued me, I know you were just doing your job. But even after your job was done, you wouldn't let me out of your sight." Heather took a deep breath, "Even after decontamination back at the base, you were by my side all the time. You… you even stood watch the first night I slept. I woke up screaming and you were right there to hold me."

Xavier swallowed hard; it almost made him sound like a stalker.

Her brown eyes locked with his hazel gaze. "Was it just duty... or was it me?"

"You," he said without hesitation.

"Promise that's not just your 'gun' talking for you?" She asked with a half smile.

Xavier chuckled. "I promise. But still… are you sure you want to…"

"Yes," she said. "I am. But what about you? I mean I know you lost your wife and…"

"Heather," Xavier said sternly, tenderly holding her face by her chin. "I would never _ever _do that. I loved my wife and I took a vow until death did we part. You are _not _a substitute_._ Frankly I was always afraid to tell you how I feel because I figured you'd think of me as just one of the guys trying to get lucky… or in my case, think of me trying to replace someone I'd lost."

Heather smiled. "I know you're not that kind of man, from the day I met you I've known that." She looked down at his bulging crotch with a wry grin. "Now let that beast out before it splits your pants."

He didn't need to be told twice. He pulled his already unbuckled pants down as she hooked her fingers into his boxers. His other "rifle" sprang into view and Heather stifled a gasp.

"Like what you see?" Xavier asked coyly. Heather grasped him in her hand, tugging his body onto her.

"Hell yes, but I don't wanna see it, I wanna feel it." She said, hearing the lovers crying out on the monitor behind her. Xavier growled and pulled her shirt over her head, her hair bun coming out as he almost violently ripped it away. Her brown hair spilled about her shoulders as her perky boobs were exposed to the air. Her nipples were small, pink, and rock hard. He wasted no time devouring them in his mouth. Heather groaned, digging her nails into his shirt-covered back. After a few minutes she pushed him away, tearing his shirt off him as well. His muscular chest glistened with sweat, a little black chest hair perfectly outlining his large pecs.

Xavier admired Heather's petite body. Her tummy was taught and firm, her handful-sized breasts pointing directly upward as though defying gravity. The two soldiers were heaving and panting, the moment of anticipation growing as Heather rolled her pink panties down her thighs. Her crowning glory was a small patch of light brown hair over her most treasure.

"C'mon 'X' what are you waiting for?" She asked, turning over and grabbing at the security console, wiggling her butt at him. Xavier smiled at the new shortened nickname. "Look at those two going at it," she purred. "Even though they can't see us, how about we show them how it's done?"

Xavier chuckled and hovered over her again, his manhood grazing at her entrance as he got a better look. The war vet and the witch were screwing hard and raw; the old man was pounding her right into the mattress, pinning her down despite his injured hands.

"Yeah they're hot," he whispered in the petite soldier's ear, "but _this…_" he said, sliding himself into her. Heather moaned loudly and gripped harder at the console. "...this… is so much hotter," he breathed in her ear. He drew in a heated breath of his own; Heather was so damn tight it was like a hot wet velvet glove surrounding his manhood.

The two soldiers rutted like dogs in heat over the console as the show continued in front of them. Xavier grabbed Heather by her shaking tits like handles, hanging on for dear life as he slammed into her relentlessly. She sucked in a heated breath, biting at her hand to keep from being too loud, though she doubted anyone else could hear them. Her legs were shaking as he pounded her. It was so sudden, so rough… so exciting.

Xavier grunted as he watched the witch getting pounded hard by her aged yet strong lover. It was all so surreal to watch the sexy witch beg for it from the aged survivor, but she was egging the veteran on with her seductive pleading. Soon she was crying out in orgasm as her man urged her to come with him. The Sergeant snorted once as he matched the war vet's pace, screwing his petite lover right into the terminal.

"Aahhh.. aahh… coommiingg!" The witch cried out as she and her lover reached their limits.

"Gaahh.. yess… aahh… I'm… I'm coming!" Heather cried out, the excitement of voyeurism bringing her to her climax. Xavier grunted, slamming into her faster as she shook. His own eruption imminent, he roared and pulled from her, exploding all over her firm rump. As their lust subsided, the two soldiers gasped and watched the scene on the screen come to a close.

The lovers on the monitor collapsed onto the mattress together, the witch turning beneath her man to stare him in the eyes.

"Ahheeeyyee llooovveee yoouu Biiill" She said with sleepy eyes, kissing him tenderly.

"And I love you Eris," He said back, stroking her face with his bandaged hand. The two lovers fell asleep together, the exhaustion of the entire day finally forcing sleep off the back burner.

"That was amazing…" Heather said quietly as she turned to face Xavier.

"Personally I think _you _were amazing," Xavier said, gently stroking her hair, "But yeah those two were…"

"I was referring to _you _when I said that, stupid." She said with a chuckle. "You have no idea how many nights I went to sleep thinking about it."

"Really?" Xavier felt like a moron who missed the point. He'd been so foolish for not finding this out sooner.

"Yeah," Heather said, gently kissing his forehead. "You know, once those clothes go back on, you're Sergeant Malory and I'm Private Lenhart. Fraternizing is not permitted with a superior." She said, smiling at Malory who was in the process of pulling up his boxers.

"You're right." He said with a chuckle. "In that case, I hope you're ready for a long night."

"Oh I am. In fact I think we should keep watch tomorrow night as well," She said with a giggle, running her hands over his chest.

"Such devotion to duty," Xavier said with a grin. The two new lovers kissed passionately as they embraced, the thrill of an entire night of passion that lay ahead excited both of them.

They never noticed the auditory alarm had been triggered for room 3A, or the look of terror on Zoey's face as she screamed on the security monitor.

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A/N: Again, my apologies for the long delay, and yeah I know this chapter doesn't advance the plot a whole lot, but there will be more coming I promise. Please review.


	10. The Passing Premonition

_**Disclaimer: All characters, except Eris, belong to Valve. As usual, the main zombie plot is Valve's but the subplot is mine. Don't plagiarize or I will be forced to take legal action, and by legal action I mean I will have some of the attorneys I work with egg your house or fart in your mouth while you sleep.**_

_Mature Content Warning: This story contains sexual themes and should not be read by those under 18. This story is also violent, but apparently kids these days are exposed to that stuff as early as age 5 and it doesn't bother them. My 3 year old niece actually laughed at a brutal slasher film… LAUGHED! WTF? Kids today…_

Authors Notes: I originally had nothing to say about this chapter, however this evening something happened that I feared would happen sooner or later:

A member of FanFiction complained about my story's sexual content. Specifically he/she complained about Movie Night, not Double Feature, despite the fact that there is a sexual content warning in both the summary and the actual chapter preface. This chapter was originally going to be longer, however I decided to make a cut off point here, in case come tomorrow my account is suspended, or worse, banned. If the latter becomes the case, I will not be able to keep my promise about the story finishing, and for that I am very sorry. I love all my fans here, I love the criticism I receive, both positive and negative, because I know even the negative criticism is meant to help me improve my writing.

It's truly a shame that this person has to blow the whistle on me, especially since I place tons of warnings about my writing in the preface, not to mention half the mature works on the site have stories just like mine. And of course, this person private messaged me, but disabled the private messaging feature for their profile. No surprise to me, cowardly flamers like that love to take a pot shot then hide. However rather than be irate about it, I'm going to be the bigger person and let the cards fall where they may. It's a shame this person is this unhappy with their life that they have to pick on my writing, but let's face it, if some people had nothing to bitch and moan about, they'd roll over and die.

I'm happy that I was able to help this miserable person live at least another day, until he/she finds something else to bitch about tomorrow. We all have to do our parts for those less fortunate and unhappy.

So on with Chapter 10! Please review too, who knows if I'll get to see them after tomorrow!

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Chapter 10 – The Passing Premonition

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"Can't believe that was what Rayford calls 'history.' A God damn under the river tour, and for just five bucks, all the shit water and dusty old basements you could ask for. Hah, and I thought _I _was a good con man." The man in the white suit said as he patched himself up.

"Don't forget the hordes of shit-water zombies," a young woman said as she reloaded her weapon.

"So whacha think Ellis? Dat Zoey girl's up 'dere," A burly dark man said to a younger muscled fellow in a ball cap.

"Coach mayn, don start! Ah'm already nervous," The country lookin' boy said.

"You had your chance, you didn't do shit. Now, you can watch Nick take care of business." The con man said as he opened the safe room door.

"Yeah Nick? Well… yah have a turd on yer shoulder," Ellis said with a scowl.'

"Y'know what? I'm not even gonna look," Nick said as he left his comrades in the dust, hurrying up the concrete stairs to the side of the raised bridge. He was surprised to see the three survivors they'd met earlier still waiting. He had that asshole biker pegged as the type of guy to ditch them, after all it's what _he _would've done.

"Hey! You made it!" The injured dark man said with a smile, despite his obvious discomfort. He was sitting between the still standing college girl and the tattooed biker they'd seen on the opposite side of the bridge. "So who are you guys?"

"Yeah… we're the people with the car… who need to get across the bridge," the man in the white suit said sarcastically.

"You're right Francis, he's _not _friendly. I think Bill would've shot him by now." Louis said.

"Yeah, Bill _definitely _woulda shot him… if Eris didn't get her hands on him first." The biker retorted.

Zoey snorted quietly and looked away for a moment, an errant strand of her auburn hair falling in her face, until the sound of distant footsteps grew louder as the greasy-looking man's comrades joined him. The first to ascend the stone steps was a petit biracial girl with her hair done back in a something of a pony tail. Her eyes were haggard and tired, as though she'd blasted more than a couple zombies on her way through the remains of the town of Rayford. She wore a pink shirt, jeans, and a frown, no doubt from the rancid stench that seemed to follow her from the bowels of the river. Next up the stairs was a muscular looking farm boy. He had a tribal style tattoo that ran down one arm. He wore jeans and a yellow t-shirt, topped with a blue and white ball cap. His smile was bright an innocent, despite the obvious gloom and death that surrounded them all. The third survivor was large, the size of a linebacker and dressed like a high school football coach. He had dark skin, a slight beard, and one gold tooth in his grin. His purple short-sleeved polo shirt was stained with shit water and blood, but it didn't seem to damper his mood.

"Hey. So how do we lowah tha bridge?" The burly dark man asked.

"Yeah, I've been thinkin' about that." Francis said with a scowl. "We lost a good man getting' this God damn thing up. I'm not too happy about bringin' it back down."

"No one's fuckin' happy, it's the God damn human condition," the greasy con man retorted.

Zoey laughed sarcastically and mumbled something incoherent, staring off into the desolation of the small southern town.

"What was that, beautiful?" The man in the white suit asked, flashing the worst "used car salesman" smile any of them had ever seen.

"I said you have a _turd _on your shoulder." The college girl spat with bitterness in her voice.

"Hah hah! Toldya Nick!" Ellis said as he straightened his ball cap.

"Shaddap Ellis," the con man said.

The country boy flashed a quick smile at the college girl, who merely frowned in return. The boy's eyes fell as he lowered his gaze, and for a moment Zoey felt a little bad for being so harsh, though she wasn't exactly in the mood for flirting.

"So who are you guys?" The systems analyst asked.

"Mah name's Coach," the burly dark man said with a thick southern accent. "And dis 'ere's Ellis," he said, thumbing to the now shy looking country boy. "Dis is Rochelle," he said to the biracial girl who flashed a quick smile. "And tha _friendly_ one 'ere is Nick."

"Well now that that's over with, how do we get this bridge lowered?" Nick asked with more than a little impatience.

"Like I said, we lost a good man getting this thing up…" The biker started.

"So what? You gonna live up 'ere?" Coach said with an eyebrow arched. "Sure da view is great, but…"

"Look brother. We lost a good man. Another one is hurt. We can't get this bridge lowered until Louis is back on his feet." Francis said until the injured systems analyst cut him off.

"Francis, we talked about this! We're gonna help them! You guys fill the generator with gas to lower the bridge, and we'll cover you from up here."

"Sounds fair," Coach said.

"So where're you headed?" Louis asked.

"We're headed ta New Orleans… hear tha military's evacuatin' survivors there. Say, y'all wanna come wthus?" Ellis asked, his question directed a little more towards the quiet college girl.

"Yeah good luck with that. We've had enough of the military," Francis said, looking over his shoulder at Zoey for a moment.

"Listen… we're sorry about your friend," Rochelle said, her sympathies directed more towards the college girl than the other two survivors. Zoey glanced at her briefly, her blue eyes chilling the young aspiring reporter to the bone. Rochelle had seen fear, anxiety, rage, sorrow, and nearly every other unpleasant human emotion since the outbreak, but the stare this white chick was giving her was a mixture of jaded distrust, mental anguish, and emotional loss.

"You guys should hurry. That bridge isn't going anywhere until that generator is filled up," Zoey said with a slight tremble in her voice. "It's a stubborn old thing, like…" she trailed off, barely holding back her tears.

Rochelle went to ask, but held her tongue. Whatever it was, it was too painful for the young college girl to talk about. And she was right, they needed to get going.

The four survivors headed for the cargo elevator. The leader of the group pushed the button and the elevator made its slow descent.

"Ellis, keep yo' mind on da cans, not da gurl!" Coach said as the elevator hit ground floor. They were at the entrance of the hydraulic building, the generator just outside in a fenced off courtyard.

Rochelle looked across the small courtyard to see the other survivors take their places. The injured dark man was half leaning on a large mounted gun, while the biker and college girl took their places on a barricaded off second floor terrace on the café across the street. They were fully loaded with everything for a serious fight.

Except everything was eerily quiet.

As though an ghostly hand had passed over her shoulder, a shiver ran through the young mulatto woman. She turned to the right towards an opened door, half expecting a hunter to leap out of the shadows…

Instead, she found a dead elderly war veteran slumped against one of the hydraulic engines inside the building. His M16 laid aside his right arm and a smeared trail of dried blood led to where he sat. In his lap was the dead body of a female infected, it looked as though she'd collapsed on top of him.

"Guys…" she said as she approached the deceased couple. "I think I found their 'man'."

"Who gives a shit? That generator isn't gonna gas itself up," Nick said as he and the other guys approached her.

"Looks like he went down fightin'," Ellis said, noticing the dead witch on top of him.

"Apparently he didn't fight hard enough," Nick said, irritated. "Now can we get going?"

"I don't think that witch killed him," Rochelle said thoughtfully.

"What makes ya say that?" Coach asked, looking the deceased gray woman over. Her face was obscured by her platinum hair. The sundress she wore was ripped and splattered with blood. Her arms and legs were covered in purple splotches and bruises, but there were no bullet holes to be found on her.

"Look," she said, pointing the barrel of her weapon towards the dead couple. The war veteran's left arm was draped over the gray woman. The witch's back was to the group, her body thrown over the war vet as though she'd died trying to hug him. Her head rested on his left shoulder, her hair-hidden face turned towards his. Her clawed left hand and the war vet's right were clasped; their fingers folded together even in death.

Ellis slowly kneeled in front of the couple and brushed the witch's hair back. Her face was solemn, a mask of beautiful sadness. Dried salty tears on her cheeks punctuated her post-mortem sorrow. Her amber eyes were closed as though in slumber. Ellis turned his attention to the dead soldier. His eyes were shut as well, his chin resting atop the witch's white locks. The dead couple actually looked rather peaceful.

"Ah think yer right, Ro." Ellis said quietly to Rochelle. "Ah think she died tryin' to protect 'im."

"And how exactly does this get the generator gassed up any faster?" Nick asked, looking around for infected creeping within the otherwise vacant building.

"Sho sum respect Nick," Coach said. "Everyone gatha 'round. Let's pray." The other survivors knelt along with Ellis, who respectfully removed his ball cap, holding it to his chest. Rochelle wiped an errant tear from her eye as Coach recited prayers for the departed.

"Though ah walk thru tha valley of tha shadow of death, ah fear no evil, for thou art wit me. Thah rod and thah staff, dey comfort me. Thou preparest a table befoe me in tha presence of mine enemies. Thou annointest mah head wit oil, mah cup runneth ovah. Surely goodness an' mercy will follow me, an' ah will dwell in da House of da Lord forevuh."

None of them noticed the single tear that budded from the witch's closed eye and slowly ran down her gray face.

"Amen," they said as they stood and filed out into the courtyard.

"C'mon ladies! A horde's coming! What the hell were you doing in there?" The biker yelled, he and his friends unable to see where their lost comrade had perished.

"We were jus' prayin' for your friend," Ellis yelled. "And his uhh… companion."

Zoey leaned over the balcony, her eyes wide. "What! You found Bill? And Eris? Where are they? Are they ok?" She asked, her voice rising in a panic.

"That dead witch's name's Eris?" Ellis asked.

Zoey's face went white, as though Ellis' question had sucked the very life from her. The look of anguish on her face made the country boy's heart ache. Ellis' eyes filled with condolence and regret as he stared back at the college girl. It seemed she'd been in denial this whole time, and had finally come to the sobering reality that her friends were truly gone.

Zoey's heart was in her throat as she mouthed the words she couldn't speak.

_No…_

"Ah'm… sorry. Ah'm really sorry Zoey," Ellis said, still holding his cap by his chest out of respect.

"No… No. No! No! NO! NO! NO!" Zoey yelled as the tears began to fall. The cry of the horde echoed over the town, but the college girl's screaming mantra was all that filled her ears.

"Alright let's move!" Nick yelled as the four survivors ran out to find gas. Ellis gave one her last apologetic look before running after his friends.

"NO NO NO NO NOOOOOOOOO!" Zoey screamed, even louder than the approaching horde that howled for their blood. Her friends let fly with their weapons, cutting down the mob that swarmed the other four survivors as they scrambled for the gas cans. Zoey stood there on the balcony, her rifle hanging loosely in her hand as she cried to the heavens.

Through the roar of carnage, the sound of sobbing reached her ears.

The young survivor went silent, then promptly vaulted over the balcony.

"Zoey come back!" Francis yelled as the college girl leapt from the safety of the second floor. She landed on her hands and feet on the sidewalk below and quickly sprang up, running around the fence perimeter and towards the open door.

Bill was slumped over in front of the generator, and in his lap was the sobbing form of a witch.

"Eris!" Zoey cried, stopping a few feet away. The college girl's breath caught in her throat; the creature before her looked nothing like the gray goddess she remembered.

The witch turned in surprise, a gasp escaping her lips before her low growls of warning started. Zoey froze. The frightening creature before her rose to her feet, howling angrily as fresh tears ran down her face.

"Eris?" Zoey whispered as she backed away in fear. The gray griever gave no sign that she knew the stunned survivor, or that she even cared.

With a shriek of rage, she charged the helpless college girl.

Zoey screamed in terror as the witch lunged and landed on her, knocking her down. Rather than digging her claws into the helpless survivor, she instead wrapped her large hands around Zoey's neck, squeezing and shaking her in a blind rage.

Zoey squeaked as her air supply was constricted. The witch howled and increased the pressure. The college girl's vision grew spotty and her head felt like it would be ripped from her shoulders.

"Nooo… please… no no no noooooooo!" Zoey cried weakly as everything faded to black.

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* * *

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"Nooooooooo!" Zoey cried, sitting bolt upright in her cot, attempting to push the hands off her shoulders.

"Hey hey! Zoey!" Louis said, gently shaking her. "It's ok, you were just having a nightmare. You were yelling in your sleep."

Zoey stared at the dark man blankly for a moment; the only sound in the room was the gentle snoring of the still sleeping biker.

"You were just having a bad dream." Louis said softly, holding her hand. "Everything's all-…"

Zoey sobbed hard and threw herself into Louis' arms. The dark man held her tightly and rubbed her back as she bawled into his shoulder.

"Shhh… it's ok." Louis whispered, kissing her head and holding her close as she convulsed in his embrace, her crying finally beginning to die down.

"…scared…" Zoey choked out weakly, her words muffled by Louis' shoulder. "I was… so scared. Louis… you were injured, and we were helping these other survivors lower a bridge or something. Bill and Eris were… were dead. Went to… *sniff* …see what happened…and Eris was... Eris…" She sniffled, before crying even harder. She suddenly snapped her head up. "Oh God! Where's Bill and Eris?" She asked, scrambling to her feet and rushing to the one-way mirror.

"They're fine. They fell asleep together in the other room," Louis said in a hush.

The distraught college girl stared through the one-way mirror at the sleeping couple. Eris and Bill were snuggled in each other's arms, content smiles on their sleeping faces.

"Zoey, are you ok?" Louis asked again, a little louder this time. "That must've been one heck of a nightmare."

Zoey couldn't answer; she was still choking on her own tears. She shambled back to her cot and plopped down as though in a stupor. She stared vacantly at Louis for a few moments, as though she'd seen a ghost.

Before Louis could ask, she promptly broke down again and hugged him even tighter, crying into his chest as he held her.

"Everything's ok Zoey," Louis whispered gently, rocking himself and the college girl back and forth as he sat with her. The dark man felt his heart in his throat. He'd never seen Zoey so upset, and while he knew it was nothing more than a bad dream, it pained him to no end that she was so shaken.

He rocked with her for a little while, her sobs turning to hard gasps. Zoey coughed once as her crying tapered off; her diaphragm ached from her bawling. The only soothing comfort was Louis' hand gently stroking her back. Eventually her ragged breathing slowed to gentle deep breaths. Louis looked down at her face buried in his chest. She was asleep.

Louis carefully laid down with her in his arms. She lay half on top of him and snored softly. The dark man stared at the ceiling as he tried to fall back asleep, despite the rapid beating of his heart.

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* * *

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A/N: I know it's a short chapter (relatively speaking), but we all know why I had to do this. Please review.


	11. Requiem's Reprieve

_**Legal Disclaimer: Characters Bill, Zoey, Louis, Francis, and the generic character of the "witch" are property of Valve, as is the main zombie apocalypse plot. All other characters, named or otherwise, as well as this subplot belong to me. However I'm more than happy to "lend" thoughts or ideas if you wish to give me credit for "inspiration," just give credit where credit is due.**_

_Mature Content Warning: This story contains violence and sexual content and should not be read by those... ah fuck it. If you're this far in and you're underage or whatever, you obviously aren't too worried about that kind of stuff. Just know that I warned you fair and square. Don't be a douche bag like that other guy who tried to report me because he was just so "shocked and appalled" about Movie Night's sexual content, even after reading two separate mature content warnings. Glad to see FF pretty much just laughed at him for that one._

Authors Notes: I hate people who make excuses, so I'm not gonna do that. This chapter took a while, and for that I'm not apologizing! I like to re-read and proof my stuff more than an anal-retentive English teacher, and I'll _still_ end up with spelling errors or grammatical mistakes. Don't hesitate to point them out in your review, but do tell me what you thought of the story too. I likey reviews!

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Chapter 11 – Requiem's Reprieve

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Zoey's eyelids slowly fluttered open, flecks of dried tears momentarily blurring her vision. She groaned quietly, wiping some errant drool from her lips before noticing her "pillow" was Louis' chest. She sat up quickly, feeling embarrassed for drooling on him.

"Good morning," Louis said through slightly slitted eyes as he awoke. He'd been asleep until he felt Zoey's head lift form his chest. "How are you feeling?"

"Uh... a little disoriented," Zoey said as she rubbed her eyes. "What... what happened last night?"

"You really don't remember huh?" Louis asked with both concern and a little disappointment. Zoey looked at him in confusion, until a sudden frightening image flashed through her mind.

"My nightmare..." She said quietly as Louis nodded. The mental picture was now burned in her conscious: Bill and Eris, having faced death together with a lover's embrace in the remains of the town of Rayford.

_"Rayford?"_ The college girl thought to herself before her thoughts abruptly changed gears.

"Bill… Eris..." She said as she quickly rose to her feet, hurriedly tiptoeing over to the window once more. All she saw was a large lump of blankets on two mattresses on the floor.

"Where are they?" Zoey asked with alarm.

"Where are who?" Francis asked groggily as he sat up. "Man I had the strangest dream."

_"'Strange' doesn't trump terrifying," _Zoey thought to herself.

"They probably went to take a shower or something," Louis said, standing up and raising his arms over his head in a stretch. "I'm famished. You never realize how hungry you are until you're without food for several days."

"Amen brother," Francis said as he walked over to the table. Several of the MRE's had snack bars and the like that were unopened. He tore open a cereal bar and promptly ate it in one bite.

Louis joined his comrade, opening a dry cereal box and digging in. After swallowing several rather large mouth-fulls, Louis turned over his shoulder and asked, "Zoey, you hungry?"

His question fell on empty air.

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* * *

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Eris and Bill awoke slowly in each others' embrace, hidden beneath the covers. The waking war vet tenderly squeezed his lover's shoulder as she lightly stroked his beard.

"Goood moorrniinnggg Biill," She sang in a quiet whisper.

"Good morning Eris," he said with a slight rasp before clearing his morning throat. "Sleep well?"

"Yeesss," She replied. "Yoouuu?"

"I slept great, but that's only because you wore this old man out," Bill said with a chuckle.

"Noot oollldd," Eris said as she touched his face, a softness in her amber eyes. "Xssssppperiiennced."

Bill stared in admiration and a little surprise. It seemed like nearly every time he and Eris "spent time" together, more of her humanity would piece itself together. She seemed to understand even more spoken words, and her own vocabulary was expanding without the help of the other survivors.

Eris smiled and slowly sat up, the blankets falling from her naked body and around her waist. Her claws were clasped in her lap as she admired the soldier laying before her. Bill drank in his lover's beautiful gray curves for a moment before he sat up as well, quietly yawning and stretching as he woke up completely. Eris purred softly, staring at his half naked form.

"Biilll," she said coyly, her head tilted to the side as she errantly played with her hair. There was a hunger in her golden eyes that had nothing to do with sustenance.

The old war veteran grinned. He wondered how he was going to keep up with his witchy woman's sexual appetite; he wasn't exactly a spring chicken anymore, but his aged body had surprised him over the last couple days.

The topless couple scooted closer. Eris giggled as Bill's lower half woke up as well, poking her beneath the blankets. She leaned in for another kiss...

But it was interrupted as the door suddenly flew open.

The two turned towards the peach-scrubs-clad intruder. Zoey said nothing as she quickly closed the door behind her. She took several steps towards the two lovers, her blue eyes filled with bewilderment and disbelief. Eris let out a sigh of frustration before rolling her eyes, while Bill simply groaned quietly.

"Good morning Zoey," Bill said politely, hiding his annoyance at being interrupted a second time.

The college girl didn't answer, and the war vet's mild irritation turned to concern. The poor girl was staring at he and the gray goddess like a zombie.

"Zoooeeyyyy?" Eris asked, a mask of worry on her face as well.

Zoey tackled the pair on the floor, earning surprised gasps from both of them. She threw her arms around their necks and pulled them in close, sobbing like a relieved mother would hug her lost children.

"Gahh... I said good morning didn't I kid? No need to cry about it. C'mon you're choking me..." Bill gasped as she squeezed him tightly. He didn't know what had the college girl so upset, but he rubbed her back trying to calm her. Eris was confused as to why Zoey was so upset, and she too slid her claw behind her to gently stroke her back. The lovers' hands found each other, their fingers gently clasping as they rubbed the crying girl in a soothing, calming gesture.

"Zooeeeyy... pllleassee... noooo crrryyy," The witch said, a slight tremble in her voice. The college girl was really worrying her.

Zoey finally let them both go, her eyes red and her cheeks wet with tears. "I... I'm sorry," She said as she sniffled. "I had this horrible nightmare. You two were dead and..."

"It's alright kiddo," Bill said, comfort and understanding in his steel-colored eyes. "It was just a bad dream. I may be old, but I'm not checking out any time soon. Eris isn't leaving either, are you sweetheart?" He asked, turning to his lover.

Eris gently caught a stray tear on Zoey's cheek with her knuckle. "Errrisss suurrviiivoorr... liikkee Zooeeeyyy."

Zoey smiled, wiping her nose unceremoniously on her peach colored sleeve. "Sorry for barging in like that, I'm not usually so… emotional. I've had nightmares before, but this one.." She trailed off for a moment before shaking her head. There was no sense over thinking it. She stood up and approached the door, saying, "There's some food left over from last night, if you're hungry."

"Sounds good," Bill said. "We need to get dressed, and we'll be right there."

Zoey stood by the door with her hands folded in front of her, trying to convince herself that her bad dream was just that: A dream.

"Alone...?" Bill asked with a half smile.

"Sorry," Zoey said with a timid grin before excusing herself.

Bill chuckled and shook his head as he pulled up his scrubs bottoms beneath the blankets. Eris stared at the door as though she could see right through it, which actually wasn't far from the truth. Her enhanced vision, while mildly irritated by bright lights, allowed her to see in the darkness with near perfect clarity. She was also able to make out the faint outlines of the three survivors through the wall, like a form of thermal vision.

"Zooeeyy... niighhtmaareee," Eris said quietly, turning to the war veteran.

"Yeah... I just hope it wasn't as bad as my nightmare from the night before," Bill said, the irony lost on him as he stood and retrieved a fresh scrub top from a pile of spares that had been left in the room by the medical staff. Eris joined him; her lover assisting her in getting dressed as well. The pair kissed again once more before joining their comrades in the room next door.

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The dark skinned nurse stood in the large elevator, humming happily to herself as she descended to the lower levels. She'd been up early this morning, the excitement about the blood work results from the four survivors had her adrenaline flowing. Dr. Allan had been knocking frantically on her door the night before, a clipboard of papers in his hands. She'd barely had a chance to ask him what the commotion was about before he'd kissed her on the lips like a man who'd hit the lottery. Apparently the excited CMO had done the tests himself, and while it didn't take more than a couple hours to detect the mutated rabies virus in a blood sample, the fact that he had not left such a menial task to a subordinate showed just how excited he was to find out if they could finally make some progress. Besides the fact that the recovery of humanity depended on people like Dr. Allan, Alexis had worked with him for a long time on many projects, thus she was very personally invested in all of his research. She shared his grievances whenever he hit a wall, and his joys when he struck a breakthrough.

Alexis requested to be notified immediately when the results were in so she could deliver the news herself to the team of five. Though she hadn't known the new arrivals long, the bond they shared was strong and she could sense it. Their comradeship gave her a renewed hope for the fate of this altered world. Plus she was taken aback by Eris; the gray goddess was living proof that this virus could not crush a person's humanity. Her infected kind were the epitome of anguish, rage, and despair, but Eris was the complete opposite. She suspected the witch's mental state had more to do with that aged war veteran than any medical or scientific miracle. It was clear he'd stolen her heart.

The doors slid open, revealing the observation room to the left and the security room to the right. Alexis decided to check up on Sgt. Malory and his little spitfire first. She pushed at the door, surprised to find it slightly ajar. The first thing to strike the R.N. was the increased temperature in the room. Granted the station was small and not really meant for two people, but it was much warmer than she'd expect. She was about to dismiss it...

Until a rather familiar scent wafted in her direction: The smell of sex.

The R.N. grinned devilishly, spotting the two soldiers passed out on the floor. Malory and the female soldier were completely clothed, but it was clear by their cuddled position and their total lack of consciousness that they'd helped wear each other out well into the wee hours of the morning. The female's hand was draped across the Sergeant's chest, her left leg was thrown over his left thigh, and her head was nestled into his shoulder. The Sergeant's arm was wrapped around his subordinate, his head nestled against hers as he snored. A rather large morning wood was pushing against his pants as though trying to reach his female companion.

"Ahem," Alexis said, trying to wake them.

Nothing.

"Oh Seerrrrrgeaaaant," She said sing-songily, gently nudging at his bulge with the toe of her shoe.

"Mmmphh… ag.. again? So tired baby," Malory mumbled in his sleep, turning towards his lover.

"Mmm… no moorre big boy…" She replied lazily in slumber, her other hand siding down and squeezing the large bulge. "Made me… sore…"

"Lucky bitch," Alexis mumbled, kicking the girl's hand away from Malory's bulge a little bit harder than necessary. "C'mon you two, wake up."

The two lovers groaned and rubbed their eyes groggily. "Damn… morning already?" Malory grumbled.

"Ever vigilant eh Sergeant?" Alexis said, half teasing, half jealous. "Maybe you'd have been better off keeping watch by yourself?"

"Ah shaddup," Lenhart growled, coughing once to clear the morning rasp. She quickly stood up and put her hair back in its bun as she awoke completely. "You're just jealous he didn't ask you to bring anything down."

"I'd rather have brought something up…" Alexis said with a grin as Malory stood, his cheeks pink. "I just came to see how you to were doing. Smells like you both had some fun here last night."

"Excuse me?" Lenhart asked, one eyebrow cocked.

"You heard me, private." The R.N. replied curtly.

"Our shift is over then," Malory said quickly, hoping to end a potential fight before it started. He was all business as he straightened his beret. "Thanks for the courtesy call, Alexis." He and Lenhart promptly excused themselves from the security office and made for the open elevator.

"Anytime... _anywhere_, Xavier," Alexis said, the double meaning causing the Sergeant to freeze for a split second. She smiled, feeling Lenhart's glare burn through her even as the elevator doors closed on the pair.

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* * *

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Bill and Eris regrouped in room 3A with their comrades, the immune survivors finishing off what remained unopened from the MRE's while the lone infected devoured the remainder of her honey.

"So how did you two sleep?" Louis said to the war vet and the witch with a knowing smirk whilst patting his full stomach.

"A gentleman never tells," Bill said, reflexively reaching for a cigarette before realizing they were long gone along with his clothes. He hadn't had a cigarette since he'd rescued Eris from that hunter. In fact he didn't even have cravings for one until thinking about it just now.

"Sllleeeep gooood," Eris replied in her melodious voice before gently kissing Bill on his cheek.

"Wish I could say the same," Francis said, wiping his mouth on his scrubs sleeve.

"Same here," Zoey said quietly while staring at the table in thought.

"Yeah you had a pretty bad nightmare," Louis said, gently patting her shoulder. She looked up at him with a half smile before quietly dismissing it.

"Just a bad dream." She said nonchalantly. "I wonder if the two 'watchdogs' heard me when I woke up screaming?"

"Doubt it," Bill mumbled, settling for a piece of gum from his MRE as a cigarette substitute. "That or those auditory alarms are broken. They didn't come rushing in for us when-" Bill started before promptly shutting his mouth. The other three survivors all chuckled at the "gentleman's" slip up. Eris giggled at her lover's reddening face and pulled him closer, hooking her gray arm into his and leaning on his shoulder. Though she didn't understand everything being said, it was as though she could sense exactly what Bill was embarrassed about.

"Anyhow," Bill said gruffly, "We need to decide on our next move."

"What're you talkin' about old man?" Francis asked with a raised eyebrow. "We're not in a safe house, we're on a military base. We're not in danger anymore. Did your 'girlfriend' literally screw your brains right outta your-"

"Watch it Francis," Bill said firmly. The biker looked away, mumbling to himself quietly.

"I agree with Bill. We need a plan," Louis spoke up. "I dunno about the rest of you, but something about this place doesn't seem right."

"Amen to that," Zoey said.

"I'm also anxious to hear what they have to say about our 'supposed' immunity." Louis said. "Dr. Allan said we'd get those blood work results back pretty soon, didn't he?"

The door to the room opened with a snap hiss, startling the five survivors.

"Good morning everyone," the dark-skinned R.N. from yesterday said as she entered the room. "Sleep well?"

"Not bad," the college girl lied politely.

"Goood mooorrnning Allexxisss," Eris said, smiling.

"And good morning to you too," the R.N. replied, her polite smile turning into a full out grin. The infected woman's pleasant mood certainly was contagious. "Gosh she's cute. You all better keep an eye on her, I might snatch her away when you aren't looking."

The war vet chuckled, subconsciously squeezing Eris' arm tighter.

"So what's up?" Francis asked.

"I'm here about your test results," Alexis said. "And I have good news and bad news."

She paused as the survivors groaned, then continued. "The good news is you four are indeed immune!" She said, waiting for the anticipated eruption of cheers and the like.

However, the awkwardly quiet atmosphere was anything but jovial.

"Tell us something we don't know," Francis said irritably, breaking the silence. "Nothin' against you, beautiful, but we already knew we weren't turning into those damn vampires."

"Zooommmmbbbiiiieesss," Eris said, a slightly exaggerated scolding tone in her angel's voice. Zoey froze, her mouth half-open as she was about to verbally chastise the biker herself.

"Whatever," Francis said. "What's the bad news?"

"The bad news is we need more blood work from you four," Alexis said, drawing five rather large syringes from her pocket. "And if possible, we need some blood work from Eris too."

The gray woman glared at the needles, recalling the nurse from yesterday who attempted to stick her in the arm. While she didn't feel any pain, the attempt was mildly annoying.

"I hate needles," Francis said, folding his muscular arms across his chest like a pouting child.

"Oh come on," The ebony beauty said, walking over to him. She casually moved around the back of the sitting biker, running her hands over his broad shoulders then down his muscular arms, half-whispering in his ear. "Don't tell me a big, strong, healthy looking…," she paused, purring a little as she squeezed his biceps, gently urging his arms out of their folded position, "…stud like you is afraid of a little prick?" She asked sultrily.

"I ain't afraid of anything darlin'," Francis said, trying not to blush. "Especially not a little prick- OUCH."

With his attention distracted, Alexis stuck his tattooed arm then withdrew the syringe after filling it with a decent amount of the biker's blood. Francis started swearing, until a light peck on the cheek from the R.N. halted his verbal tirade. Alexis worked her way around the table, getting fresh samples of from everyone.

"Why do they need more blood work from us?" Bill asked, hissing a little as he got stuck in the arm.

"Your blood is immune," Alexis said as she filled the fourth syringe. "Don't you realize what that means?"

"That we can have casual sex with reckless abandon without fear of disease?" Louis guessed dryly while rubbing the sore spot on his arm.

The dark skinned woman laughed heartily at the systems analyst. "Something tells me you four aren't the type to have recklessly casual sex."

The four survivors chuckled and looked away, the irony turning their cheeks beet red.

"This means that Dr. Allan can finally make some progress on developing a vaccine. Though more importantly, he may even be able to develop a cure!" The ebony R.N. said excitedly. "However, there's one more piece to the puzzle," she said, turning her head towards Eris, one last empty needle in her hand.

The witch's golden eyes narrowed as the R.N. approached, though the ebony woman didn't flinch. "Eris, we need a sample of your blood," Alexis said softly, running one of her smooth hands over Eris' claw, pushing her sleeve up to expose her gray arm. "I promise to do this as quickly as possible."

Eris growled softly, letting Alexis know she wasn't entirely happy with this. She held onto the table with her claws, her arms extended. Bill gently rubbed her shoulder, trying to maintain her calm. The syringes were larger than the ones before. Bill guessed they needed more than a typical sample to continue their research, but they also had larger needles. Even with Eris' strong skin, it was going to feel like a lot more than a little prick.

Alexis placed the needle by the crook of the witch's left arm, aiming for the vein. She delicately pushed a couple times, the tough gray skin not even giving a little. She brought her other arm over her head…

"One… two… three!" Alexis said, bringing her other hand down in a hammer blow. The sudden violent force was enough to push the needle into the witch's skin. Eris hissed and squeezed the table so hard her deadly claws ripped into the wood, splintering it in several places. The syringe filled with the infected blood, its color a much darker red than that of the four survivors.

"There… now that wasn't so bad was it?" Alexis asked as she withdrew the needle. The infected woman stared flatly at the R.N. as though she's lost her mind.

"Your military escort will arrive shortly so that you five can get back to the surface and relax a bit... start living again. We have a number of recreational activities that we hope you'll all enjoy." Alexis grinned while looking at the gray goddess. "Personally I hope Eris likes sports. I'd love to see her spike a volley ball."

"And what about our current 'living arrangements'?" Zoey asked, anxious to get the hell out of this room.

"I'm afraid for now you'll all be staying in quarantine." Alexis said, quickly raising her hand in a defensive gesture before Zoey could launch a verbal assault. "Now I know that's not what you want to hear, but understand we have to keep Eris under tight observation. Dr. Allan figured you four would rather stay down here with her than be separated. Besides, you'll only be in quarantine during the off-hours. The rest of the time you have almost the entire base to roam around with your military escort. I've also made arrangements to have some better beds transported down here. Those cots can't be comfortable."

The door behind them opened with a snap hiss. As if on cue, the squad from yesterday minus two filed into the observation room.

"Right on time," Alexis said as she turned for the door. "Take good care of them, PFC Simmons." The R.N. said politely as she excused herself from the room.

"Okay folks," The PFC said. "Lets go."

"Where's your leader and your squad mate?" Bill asked.

"Sgt. Malory and Pvt. Lenhart kept the first watch all night, so I'd guess they're in their respective quarters getting some rest." Simmons said.

The R.N. giggled to herself as the door shut behind her. Simmons turned towards the door in confusion for a moment, but shrugged it off.

"C'mon everyone, lets get some fresh air." Simmons said as he and his men escorted the group to the elevator. It was a tight fit, but the PFC didn't care. A cramped elevator ride was a damn sight better than what that jackass Malory did. Forcing his men and this group of misfits to march down a dozen stairs was bad enough, but up? Not a chance.

The two groups waited in silence as the elevator carried them to the surface. As the doors opened, the five arrivals filed out with their military escort maintaining a loose formation. Bill looked around as the team went through the lobby of what appeared to be the hospital area they were sent to for decontamination. The double doors opened, revealing a bright sunny morning. A breeze blew over the group, blasting away the cold sterile air of the quarantine basement. Everyone had to shield their eyes from the morning sunlight, the sub-level artificial lighting made them feel like moles. Despite the discomfort to her eyes, Eris sighed happily, enjoying the warmth of the sun on her skin. Zoey and Louis took deep breaths, taking in the outdoors to try and flush the sterilized air from their lungs. Francis snorted once and unceremoniously spat on the ground.

Bill saw several people rushing about as they attended to whatever duties they had, while others were relaxed and either sitting at outdoor benches or standing around talking. He spied two people throwing a Frisbee back and forth, and a couple others were listening to music on a small boom box.

"Kinda reminds me of the common area in college, we called it the Quad," Zoey said thoughtfully. The two people tossing a Frisbee slowly turned into two friends she'd remembered meeting between classes. She sighed, pleasant memories surfacing for the first time since the flood waters of the apocalyptic world had drowned their former lives.

"You ok?" Louis asked, touching her shoulder. Zoey looked again, her two friends were gone for good.

"Yeah… I'm fine. Just… remembering," She said quietly. Louis nodded in understanding.

"Where are you taking us?" Francis asked as they walked across the base.

"Why to have some fun of course," Simmons said with a smirk. "Anyone here like working on cars or motorcycles?"

"Hell yeah," Francis said, with a little more enthusiasm than he intended. "Err.. I mean, I don't hate it."

"Glad to hear it. We have a number of vehicles, both military and civilian that could use some work. We're also working on repairing a wing to the commissary. Anyone here like working with wood?"

"I do," The dark system's analyst said. "I've always loved working with my hands." His friends stared at him with raised eyebrows. "What? Yeah I work on computers and networks for a living, but that doesn't mean I live and breathe the damn things."

"We also have a lot of recreational activities, various sports, an obstacle course, and a shooting range." Simmons continued.

"I'd like to try my hand at that shooting range," Bill said, before a slight pain in his palms reminded him he wouldn't be using a gun for a little while. "Well… maybe later on."

"There's no rush," Simmons said. "The only stipulations we have are the following: First, you cannot be separated. Second, you will cooperate with and accommodate Dr. Allan and his staff. They'll be observing Eris' interaction with others.

"So," Zoey asked no one in particular, "Where to?"

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The days that followed went by quicker than expected for the five survivors as they spent time reacquainting themselves with what it was like to live normal lives. They spent most of the first day familiarizing themselves with the base, simply walking around locating various areas and facilities. Every day thereafter was filled with various activities, both work and play. It reminded Bill of his days in the boy scouts way back when.

Each day the team took part in a particular activity that one of their members was interested in, only in keeping with the request that would not separate. Louis assisted building the wooden framework on the Commissary building. Francis spent a bit of time working with some of the mechanics on a couple military trucks, then an old Harley Davidson that had been "rescued" during a recon mission. Zoey found a couple soldiers interested in sword fighting, and she was more than happy to spar with them. Near the end of the week Bill's hands had healed to the point he was comfortable to fire a weapon and decided to polish his skills at the shooting range.

The medical staff would shadow them constantly, observing the gray goddess' remarkable progress in learning and relearning behaviors through mimicking and example. Eris was very interested in everything her companions did. Francis was underneath a truck, grease on his hands and a miniature flashlight in his mouth as he worked on a transmission. He'd nearly swallowed the flashlight when he turned to find Eris laying next to him on her back, watching intently as he repaired the vehicle. When Louis was working on the construction project, Eris was sitting on a rafter observing him hammer nails, assemble joists, and the like. She was enthusiastic in "fighting" Zoey, the two of them reenacting their battle on the roof in mock combat.

Of course, Eris' favorite person to spend time with was Bill. At the shooting range the war vet found himself distracted more than once when he saw his gray lover from his peripheral vision, standing aside him a few feet away holding her hands in front of her as though she were firing an invisible handgun along with him.

Despite the vague sense of unease that seemed to loom over their heads like a dark cloud, the five survivors treasured every day, though one particular day would stand above all the rest. On the evening of said day, the group sat outside haphazardly under the stars, wanting to prolong going back to the quarantine room for as long as possible.

"I never thought I'd say this, but I hate this place a little less every day," Francis said.

"It is kind of nice to do things together that _don't _involve us risking our asses for each other," Zoey replied as she enjoyed the peaceful ambiance of the night sky.

"Yeah, I think after all this I find you guys just a little more tolerable than I did when this shit started," Francis said with a chuckle. Zoey shot him a faux frown but laughed in spite of herself. The biker had a good point. Had she passed any of these guys on the streets of Philly, she doubted she would've paid any of them any mind, though Louis was cute. Bill would've been just another distinguished elderly gentleman in her eyes, and she wouldn't have given Francis the time of day even if he drove up on the hottest Harley in the city. And yet she was closer to all of them than nearly everyone she'd lost to the apocalypse. It was ironic how such close personal bonds were formed out of the ashes of this nightmare.

"_The best flowers grow from the stinkiest piles of manure," _Zoey heard her mother's words in her head, smiling at her wisdom.

"True that." Louis said to the biker. "You know the four of us couldn't be anymore different..."

"And yet here we are, together like a bunch of old friends," Bill said as he gazed at heaven's sparkling nightlights.

"Speak for yourself grandpa, I ain't old," Francis said with a smirk.

"You aren't _young_ either Francis," Bill replied, shooting him a lopsided smile.

"After all this shit... that ain't far from the truth," Francis said quietly, returning his eyes to heaven.

"I almost forgot what it was like to spend a day not firing at everything in sight," Louis said with a sigh.

"Good thing they have a shooting range," Bill said absently as he tried to find various constellations. "I wouldn't want to get rusty." Louis shook his head and chuckled, his point lost on the war veteran.

"It was so cute how Eris was mock-firing along with you," Zoey said.

"Yeah," Bill replied. "Seems like every day she's more and more..." he paused turning towards his gray goddess, but only finding empty space. The other survivors looked around, their gray comrade nowhere in sight.

"Where did she ...?" Louis started, before a faint melody reached his ears.

Bill looked around, noticing that their military escort and the medical staff were gone also. "Is that... singing?"

The survivors stood and followed the sounds. Across one of the open grassy areas a crowd was gathering around a small picnic area. As the survivors approached, the melody grew louder.

"That singing...," Louis whispered.

"Sounds like what we heard in the forest," Francis said.

"_Like in my dream..." _Bill thought to himself.

"Its... beautiful," Zoey said as they drew closer.

The medical staff and military personnel had formed a circle around Eris who sat across from a stunned female soldier at a picnic table. On the table was a small MP3 player and a pair of miniature speakers. The gray goddess was singing along with the voice on the musical device, her siren's call absolutely enchanting. While she wasn't singing any words, she was matching the tone and tempo of the singer.

"I... I was just listening to some Evanescence, and she came over here. Then she started singing." The female soldier stammered as the survivors approached her. "Her voice is... mesmerizing."

Zoey remembered Evanescence, a band that was very popular in the early 2000's. The lead singer Amy Lee was known for her gorgeous and slightly baritone singing voice. Eris seemed to match her perfectly, her own voice a little bit higher in pitch and even more beautiful to the ears. The current song playing was "Hello" a rather melancholy piano-accompanied tune, though no less beautiful. As it concluded, another song started, a duet by a band that Zoey recognized called Seether.

Bill stood in front of his lover, watching her soft gray lips move as though she were weaving a vocal tapestry along with the female lead singer. Her voice far surpassed the one she sang along with, every enchanting note raising the hair on his arms. The war veteran shook his head for a moment, swearing he saw a pair of black wings extend from his lover's back.

Eris' wordless serenade seemed to reach the heavens, or at least most of the base as more people gathered. Although Eris typically felt embarrassed when all eyes were on her, her singing gave her confidence and despite the growing crowd, it was as though only she and Bill existed in the entire world. Her golden gaze fell upon her lover, who looked just as entranced as the rest of her "audience." She smiled and stood to face him, still singing as she pulled him towards her.

More soldiers and medical staff were drawn to the sound, among them Dr. Allan who was coming by to check up on the group personally. The onlookers moved away to give the pair space as the witch pulled the war vet around in what looked like a rough waltz, one gray arm hugging him while her other clawed hand found his, the fingers folding together. He eventually took the lead as he danced with his love, their steps falling in time with the slow song. The war vet gazed into the witch's eyes as she sang to him, the crowd spinning around them as they twirled beneath the starlight. Maybe it was just the twinkling of the stars, but Bill swore he saw a momentary flash of light. The old veteran spotted another soldier with an old Polaroid camera, the source of the sudden flash.

While Bill wasn't paying attention to the lyrics, the song sounded like two lovers who were incomplete without each other. The song reached its crescendo, the duet singing with a passion and conviction that seemed to pass directly into the dancing couple.

As the song reached its end, so did the lovers' dance. Eris smiled at the last note left her lips, her man's heart was pounding against her chest as fast as it had when there was nothing more between them than a thin layer of each others' sweat. They felt the eyes of everyone upon them, staring in awe.

"Eeeyyyee loooveee youuu Biillll," The gray goddess sighed as she laid her head on the war vet's chest. The stunned veteran could only nod and stroke his dance partner's long platinum mane.

"What... what song was that?" Bill asked over his shoulder, finally finding his voice.

"Uh... Broken," the female soldier replied.

"Didn't sound broken to me," Bill said as Eris nuzzled his neck.

"No no.. the song is titled "Broken," by Seether and featuring Amy Lee from Evanescence." The soldier said. Bill had no idea who either of the groups were; he didn't exactly keep up on the younger crowd's music, but after hearing that song, perhaps he was missing out.

The picture-taking soldier spoke up, "Here... I took this, just seemed like the perfect shot. Please take it." He said handing it to Bill. It had just finished developing and it was indeed a great shot of he and Eris facing each other with a loving embrace.

"Piiicctturrre," the witch said as she stared at herself and her war vet.

"Incredible... just incredible," Dr. Allan mumbled as he scribbled notes while pushing his way through the stunned crowd. "Excuse me, let me through please." The other survivors took notice as the crowd parted to let him through.

"Hello Dr. Allan," Bill said gruffly, his comrades flanking him on both sides. Eris glared at the doctor as though he'd interrupted their romantic moment.

"If you all have a few minutes, I'd like to speak with you in my office." The doctor said. "Its about Eris' blood work." He looked around for a moment at the mass of military and medical staff still staring at the pair. "Unless you two plan on doing an encore?"

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A/N: My apologies for this chapter taking so long, but I stand by my promise dear readers. Please review. :-)


	12. Siren's Saga

_**Legal Disclaimer (abbreviated): Ordinarily I list all characters and ideas at the beginning, however if I were to do so I'd spoil some of this chapter, so a complete list of what specifically belongs to Valve and what belongs to me can be found at the end of this chapter. Of course, everyone reading this who didn't eat lead paint chips as a kid already knows which characters are Valve's and which ones are mine. None the less, I need to do this to comply with FF's rules and regulations about copyrights. As usual, the main zombie apocalypse theme is Valve's but this subplot story is mine. No plagiarizing!**_

_Mature Content Warning: This story contains violence and sexual themes and should not be read by those under age 18. Yet again, unless you've been eating lead paint chips (yeah they're tasty) you already know this._

Author's Notes: Damn. It's been almost two months, but I hope everyone who's been hanging on will find this worth it. As I mentioned on my profile, I needed a breather from this story to clear my head and figure out where I wanted to go. To everyone's delight or dismay as the case may be, this story is far from over. Hopefully it won't be as long between updates now. As I type this I'm on vacation, doing my writing early in the morning as I often do before the family wakes up. To everyone who's been a loyal fan and reviewed for nearly every chapter, know you have my thanks and I appreciate yours (and everyone's) patience. Anonymous reviews are enabled, so show me some love you non-members!

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Chapter 12 – Siren's Saga

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The group stood in a small office, loaded with filing cabinets and errant papers stacked in several places. Dr. Allan and his R.N. assistant stood behind his desk, a piece of office furniture that had likely seen better days and more than a couple owners before winding up in his possession. The finish was cracked and faded around the corners, exposing some of the pressed wood fiber that was used to fabricate it. The stress of time and hard work was more than evident on it's surface, what little that could be seen beneath the stacks of papers, medical reports, and the like. The desk's chaotically populated surface was an ironic reflection of the doctor's otherwise calm and collected visage.

"So I've analyzed Eris' blood," the doctor said while staring at the clipboard R.N. Stevens handed him. "And I'm very confused."

"No more confused than we are, I'm sure doc," Bill said.

Dr. Allan shook his head as though only half paying attention. He seemed to keep reading the medical chart over and over, as though it's written contents would miraculously change. There was more to the results than he'd let on to the survivors right now, it was unlikely they'd understand. Hell he didn't even completely understand...

"What I'm having trouble figuring out is why Eris _is_the way she is," Dr. Allan said, finally breaking away from the chart. "She has exhibited more and more human-like behavior since you all arrived here, and while I'd like to think that interacting with other people has helped, there is still something missing... something unexplained." The doctor said, trailing off again.

"Hmmmm hmmmmm hmmm..."

Dr. Allan blinked twice, he was spacing out again. Eris was softly humming a tune in Bill's ear; it sounded just like the song they'd all seen her sing to earlier. The other survivors all seemed to be in a similar trance as she hummed to her lover, gently hugging his arm. The old vet was still paying close attention, but it was clear his lover's bewitching voice was affecting him as well. Scratching his head, the doctor scowled at the puzzling siren. The gray woman was always in an elated mood, one that would be out of place even for someone who was _not _infected. It was like she was on a permanent high...

The doctor suddenly froze as if he'd been bitten on the ass.

Alexis cocked an eyebrow as the doctor's lips curled into a smile. He was on to something, but what?

"So... Bill. How long have you uh... been 'acquainted' with Eris?" The doctor asked, a Cheshire Cat grin on his face.

"All of us have been acquainted with her since she followed us to a safe house we took refuge in," Bill answered, not catching the euphemism.

"Uh huh," The doctor said, chuckling at the couple. "Come on Captain Overbeck, you know what I meant. I've seen the way she clings to you ever since you five arrived. I saw the way she stared at you tonight when you two danced, the way she looks at you even now. I'm sure your comrades have noticed too. Even the most stone-cold soldier or research-obsessed doctor on this base could tell that you two... are in love."

"We are," Bill said, still not seeing where the doctor was headed with this train of thought. "What does that have to do with her test results?"

"With all due respect," Dr. Allan said, barely hiding his excitement. "Do you two... express your love?"

The war veteran glared at the doctor. Respectable men didn't ask personal questions like that, and respectable soldiers like himself did NOT kiss and tell.

"What business is that of yours?" Bill asked.

"I knew it!" Dr. Allan said as he hugged Alexis. "This is the answer we've been searching for! I can't believe I never thought to test for endorphins or serotonin levels!"

"Ack, wait a minute," Alexis gasped, half hugging back. "Endorphins and serotonin are almost non-existent in those infected with the virus, so why would you bother testing for them?"

Dr. Allan released the ebony beauty and directed his attention to Zoey. "You said that Eris didn't exhibit much human behavior when you first encountered her, that she was more primal, but as time passed she seemed to remember more, her cognitive skills improved, she learned your names, she started inferring things,..."

"Well yeah," Zoey said. "But what's your point?"

"Would you say she became happier as a _result_ of these relearned behaviors?" The doctor asked.

"Well... no," the college girl replied. "I think her being happy is what _caused _her to start remembering things."

"Exactly!" The doctor replied as though he were lecturing a student. "And what causes happiness in the brain? Chemical stimuli! But something had to be the catalyst to compel her mind to resist the negative effects of the virus. Chemical..."

"We didn't give her any drugs," Louis interjected, clearly confused.

"No. Her brain produced the chemicals, in this case endorphins or serotonin, to counteract the virus' negative effects, but nearly all infected lack the ability to produce these chemicals. Even ordinary human beings don't produce excess serotonin randomly. There has to be some sort of external stimuli." Dr. Allan said excitedly.

The four survivors stared at him blankly.

"Oh the hell with manners," Dr. Allan said, turning his attention towards the war vet. The anticipation was killing him. "There's only one probable explanation: You've had sex with her!"

Bill turned beet red, though it was hard to tell if it was out of anger or embarrassment. Zoey, Louis, and even Francis blushed and turned away as well, and their discomfort did not go unnoticed.

Alexis brought a hand to her mouth to suppress a giggle. It was so simple, and it made perfect sense. It's a well known fact that sex is a very healthy physical activity, mainly due to the increased release of endorphins, serotonin, and hormones. Eris was able to combat the virus' effects because her brain was producing the very chemicals that were counterproductive to the virus. However, her infected body required an extra "push" to produce these chemicals, a push from sexual intercourse. However, it would take numerous and frequent acts of sexual activity for her brain to produce enough serotonin for her to regain this much humanity over only a few days.

The R.N. smiled slyly at Eris, who was still hugging the arm of her embarrassed lover. The buxom gray cutie had been screwing the old soldier this entire time, and judging by the college girl's reaction, she may very well had slept with her too, or even that biker and the dark-skinned white-collar man. It was no wonder she'd made such a dramatic cognitive turn-around.

"This is an important breakthrough," Dr. Allan said, having finally calmed down somewhat. His thoughts momentarily turned to his boss; perhaps he'd finally let go of his insane obsession. Which reminded him...

"Before I forget," the doctor said, shaking his head. "The General would like to extend a dinner invitation to you all, so that he can finally meet everyone."

Bill felt a momentary chill run up his spine. He'd forgotten about his request to meet the head of this military base. He'd been so caught up enjoying the basic pleasures of life with his friends that it had completely slipped his mind.

"When?" Bill asked.

"Tomorrow night," the doctor said.

"You want us to meet a general in these... scrubs?" Bill asked in surprise. "I would never address a superior officer in my pajamas, let alone these outfits."

"Don't worry," Alexis said. "Your original clothes have been disinfected, now they need to be laundered so they don't smell like chemicals. They'll be ready for you by tomorrow."

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* * *

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The following evening the group of five prepared themselves for dinner. Bill, Louis, and Francis were busy changing into their old clothes, while Zoey and Eris dressed in the adjacent bathroom. Zoey insisted upon doing Eris up properly for this event. While she didn't care much for any of the military aside from Bill, she wanted her gray friend to look as beautiful and as human as possible. Hopefully that would convince this unknown general that Eris was not a threat and that none of them needed to be locked up like freaks in the "basement."

"Man I've missed my vest," Francis said after throwing on his t-shirt and slipping the leather fabric over his tattooed arms.

"Excited to march in a 'parade' again, eh Francis?" Louis said with a chuckle, poking fun at the double meaning behind the biker's leather vest and chaps.

"You're such a clown, white-collar." The biker retorted. "Why don't you paint eyes on your butt-cheeks and hang your red tie out of your ass? Then you'll be funny coming _or _going."

Bill laughed hard and slapped Francis on the shoulder. "Never a dull moment with you two."

"Damn right," Francis said before turning his attention to the bathroom door. "C'mon ladies, lets get a move on!" He yelled, hearing the faint sound of music from behind the closed door.

"Sure was nice of that one soldier to give Eris that MP3 player," Louis said.

"Yeah except she hasn't stopped listening to it since then," Francis quipped, before shouting, "Which is probably why they can't hear me!"

"We hear you just fine. Don't get your chaps in a bunch," came a muffled voice came from behind the shut bathroom door. "And we'll be out when we're damn well ready!"

The impatient biker mumbled something sexist about the situation while the dark-skinned systems analyst chuckled to himself.

The gray-haired war veteran didn't mind the wait, though he was a little antsy himself. Although he was used to the "hurry up and wait" routine in the military, he was rather anxious to see his lover dressed up. He remembered how beautiful she looked after Zoey cleaned her up in the safe house, even though it was a hasty job with limited resources. Now they actually had time to prepare themselves, and the medical staff supplied cosmetics and other toiletries that were luxury items compared to the supplies they were used to finding.

From behind the closed door the portable music player fell silent. The three men turned their attention to the slowly opening bathroom door. One claw peeked out, its owner apparently rather nervous.

"Oh come on Eris," Zoey said from behind the door. "There's no need to be shy. You look great."

The door slowly opened, the woman standing in the entryway stealing the breath from the three men.

Eris stood before them with her claws folded in front of her, shyly. Her platinum hair had been done up in a stylish perm, adding a slight curl and bounce to her otherwise straight and flat hair, slightly exposing her shoulders. Her laundered sundress was pure white once again, the lace v-cut showing her contrasting gray cleavage. The tapered cut hugged her delicate curves near her waist and hips, but the dress blossomed out closer to her knees. She was the floral personification of beauty, like a delicate white carnation.

However, what really stood out was Eris' face. She already had a gorgeous complexion despite her gray skin, but Zoey had taken an extra step and applied makeup. Her face was done up tastefully, her eyes touched up with a little eyeliner and mascara, and her lips were painted a dark crimson.

"Damn," was about all Francis could muster. Louis nodded his head in agreement, drinking in Zoey's handiwork coupled with the infected woman's natural beauty. Bill stared in silent admiration. No matter how much he mentally prepared himself, Eris always managed to make his old heart flutter.

"You look... absolutely beautiful," Bill said, finally finding his voice. He extended his arm in a gentleman's escorting gesture. Eris giggled, reaching out and clasping Bill's arm.

"Thaannnnk yoouu Biiilll." The gray goddess sang as her soldier pulled her close.

"You're welcome," Zoey said flatly. "Shoot. Makes me wish I had a dress to wear too," the jealous college girl said from behind Eris, pouting at the three gawking men. Though she was only wearing her jeans and pink hoodie, she'd put on a little makeup as well, but it had apparently gone unnoticed.

"You clean up nice too, darlin'," Francis said with a smirk, earning himself a punch in the arm from the college girl.

Louis did a double take on the college girl. Though she was dressed in her street clothes, the fresh makeup brought out her youthful beauty. The dark man felt a thump-thump in his chest as he eyed her up. "Zoey... wow girl you look good enough to eat. Err I mean...," Louis said, his dark cheeks developing a flushed color.

The college girl smiled broadly at the embarrassed systems analyst. "Well thank you Louis," she said, offering her arm to him, which he gladly hooked in his own.

The door slid open as the five survivors approached. They expected to find their military escort, but only Alexis and Dr. Allan were there waiting for them.

"Ready to meet Dr- err.. the General?" Dr. Allan asked the group.

Bill shot a cockeyed stare at the CMO until his ebony assistant spoke up. "He goes by a couple titles. In any case, I hope you're all hungry. He's got quite a dinner prepared. I'm a little jealous." Alexis said, pouting.

"Hell yeah I'm hungry," Francis said, his stomach growling as though punctuating the remark. "But you're welcome to eat with us, so long as you sit next to me." He finished with a grin.

Alexis giggled at the biker's boldness, "Sounds too tempting to pass up, but I still have to decline," she said with a sigh. Zoey grinned at her comrade; she'd never seen Francis actually look disappointed. "But, you seem like the only one without a 'date' so I'll happily join you at least for the trip there." She finished, offering her arm. Francis hooked his beefy arm with hers, chuckling as she squeezed his bicep with her free hand.

Dr. Allan simply rolled his eyes. "If you'll all follow me please..."

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* * *

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Two large wooden doors opened before the five survivors, revealing a large, dressed up conference room. The cloth-covered tables formed a U-Shape, with the opening towards the front of the room. Mounted on the front wall was a large pull-down projector screen, and in the middle of the room hanging from the ceiling was the projector itself. The tables were set with fine dining ware, upon which sat a piping hot and scrumptious looking meal.

"Please be seated," Alexis said politely, pouting a little as she reluctantly let go of Francis' arm. The five sat around the U-shaped table, one spot having been deliberately reserved for the gray woman, a large jar of fresh honey in place of a plate or silverware.

A beep punctuated the quiet tension in the room as Dr. Allan placed a two-way phone-style radio to his ear.

"Uh huh. Yes sir, everyone's here. Yes... what? I thought you said..." A pause then a sigh, "Yes sir."

Dr. Allan returned the radio to his belt and addressed the group. "General Tyre has been delayed a bit, but he insisted you all start eating without him. He doesn't want your food to get cold just because his will.

And with that, the doctor quickly exited the room, nearly dragging his assistant with him.

The five sat around the table staring at each other nervously for a few minutes. When it was evident they were going to be waiting for a bit, they decided to dig into their meals. About halfway through, the biker decided to ask the question they all wanted answered.

"Why did they leave?" Francis asked, a hint of disappointment at losing his "date."

"I don't know, but I'm wondering what that little slip in title was all about," Bill said.

"Yeah she was about to refer to... what was his name... Tyre?" Zoey asked, pronouncing his name like the word used to describe exhaustion.

"Actually it's pronounced 'tear' like the kind you cry," a deep voice answered from behind the group.

The sound of dropped silverware clattering against the china filled the room as the five turned towards the large arrival. "Large" was putting it lightly, the man was _huge._ He stood at six feet, seven inches, very broad shoulders and a muscular chest. His waist was not slender by any stretch, but his thick arms and legs made his body look proportionate. His head was bald, though it did not look like it was shaven. His face was nothing exemplary, except for a very large scar that diagonally divided his face, crossing over over his mouth and nose before passing over his eye.

He was a sight to behold, though Bill had a hard time deciding if the general looked impressive, or intimidating.

A tremble on his arm broke his stare. Eris was holding him, her amber eyes wide with surprise. She squeezed him hard, and Bill wondered just what was wrong with his pretty gray lover. He'd seen her afraid, like that time the hunter pounced her, but this was ten times worse. She looked terrified.

"Please allow me to formally introduce myself," the towering man said. "I am General Tyre, head of base Echo Rho Tau." He extended a black-gloved hand in a welcoming gesture to the closest member of the group, a tattooed leather-clad punk.

Francis stood slowly, trying not to show his shock. The biker thought himself a pretty muscly guy, and he'd been in more than his fair share of bar fights, some with bouncers that were almost this general's size. Still, something about this guy was very unsettling. He looked like he could crush a person with his thumb, literally.

"Nice to meet ya," Francis lied, standing quickly and shaking the general's hand. The burly man squeezed back, and Francis had to suppress a whimper at the painful grip. He did his best to squeeze back, but it felt like a child's grasp compared to a gorilla's.

Bill cleared his throat and stood, nearly dragging Eris from her seat as she clinged to him. "General Tyre. My name is Captain William Overbeck, and these are my friends, Francis, Zoey, and Louis," he continued, extending his hand to his three silent comrades before turning to his love. "And this is..."

"Eris," General Tyre finished, his voice subtly laced with both curiosity and familiarity. He strode to the pair and made to shake Bill's hand, but the gray woman would have none of that. She growled at the general as soon as he was in arms reach. The war vet turned to his love, surprised at her sudden change in demeanor. Her amber eyes were alight with hostility and trepidation. A cold shiver passed through the three younger teammates, as they'd _never _seen their otherwise docile infected member look so terrified and so angry. Only the war vet seemed to maintain his composure.

"I'm sorry General," Bill said respectfully. "I don't..."

"Pay it no mind," The general chuckled as he withdrew his handshake. He casually stepped around the pair, making his way towards the front of the room. "I trust the food was to everyone's liking?"

"It was delicious," Louis said, trying to be polite, though his own anxiety was evident even in his normally upbeat voice.

"How did you know Eris' name?" Zoey asked, her eyes narrowing in suspicion.

The general simply chuckled, "I think nearly everyone on this base knows her name, if only by word of mouth." He turned to the witch and the war vet, "Dr. Allan tells me the two of you, or rather _she, _had a sizable crowd gathered from her singing. He claims there were at least 40 people, including your escort. I wish I'd seen that for myself."

"So General, or is it Doctor?" Bill asked, earning a smirk from the large man. "What's this base _really _all about?"

General Tyre simply shrugged, "General or Doctor, quite frankly I don't care which one you address me by. Much like you, Captain Overbeck, I feel that formal military titles don't really amount to a foot-high pile of shit anymore." He casually strode to a small stand by the front of the room next to the pull-down projector screen, picking up a presentation remote and idly toying with it. "As for this base, it's a military base. Like I said, base Echo-"

"Rho Tau," Bill finished with a frown. "There's no such military installation in Pennsylvania."

The general answered dryly, "Come now 'Captain,' do you really think the U.S. Government would reveal the locations of all their secret bases, even to their own soldiers? A distinguished veteran like yourself knows there are certain things that are considered, 'top secret.'"

"With all due respect, 'General,'" Bill replied in the same dry tone, "an old man like me knows when he smells a foot-high pile of horseshit, so why not put the shovel down and answer my question?"

General Tyre's face darkened for a moment, his fist beginning to clench the small remote in his hand. For a split second, the old war vet was afraid, but the moment passed when Eris whimpered quietly in his ear. He wouldn't show fear in front of her. Bill glared at the angry man, challenging him to answer his question.

The general's faux smile returned the way the sun peeks out right after a dark cloud passes in front of it. "Fair enough." He replied. "Tell me, have you ever heard of TriHex?"

"The pharmaceutical conglomerate? Who hasn't heard of them?" Louis answered. "Those guys are bigger than Pfizer and Merck combined."

"That they are, and yet they've only been in business for about one third of the time Pfizer has, so you have to wonder just how does a company like that grow so large so quickly?" General Tyre said, clicking a button on the remote and dimming the lights.

"Let me guess. They got some government contract for supplying all the flu-shots and vaccinations for the entire U.S. Government staff and military, but they secretly are developing biological warfare for an undercover U.S. government branch that has some alternate agenda?" Zoey asked, rolling her eyes. "This is sooo Resident Ev-"

"I knew it!" Francis said, interrupting the college girl's potential copyright infringement. "There really _is _a government conspiracy and this 'mutated rabies' virus is a bunch of bull-"

"Oh for Christ's sake Francis, I was being _sarcastic!" _Zoey sighed, cutting him off.

The towering man said nothing, instead clicking another button on the remote. The projector in the center of the room lit up as the lights lowered.

Eris growled low, her amber eyes narrowing at the big man in the front of the room. In the darkness, her companions all had that faint aura about them, but the main in the front of the room had a very different aura emanating from his body.

The survivors stared at the projector screen, which showed a video of a rather angry looking soldier strapped to a dirty old hospital bed. He appeared to be thrashing around and babbling incoherently, trying desperately to reach for the doctors around him. All of the medical staff wore full H.A.Z.M.A.T. suits, but the soldiers, some of them Vietnamese, were unprotected.

"This is patient 'zero',a U.S. Soldier in Vietnam," Dr. Tyre said, as though unveiling a new car for the first time. "He complained of illness after being attacked by a rabid spider monkey during a field patrol. From the time of infection, this poor bastard turned from your average solider into a mindless, rage filled, maniac in approximately twelve hours." The video stopped, a black screen taking its place.

"This is bullshit," Zoey said. "Patient zero was someone in the mountains in Pennsylvania, that's where the outbreak was first detected."

Dr. Tyre continued, ignoring the college girl. "He'd attacked three of his fellow soldiers before they restrained him, infecting them as well. He was chained to that bed for a couple days before he finally died of a heart attack. He probably would've died sooner from lack of water, but the doctors over there kept him hooked up to saline solutions and whatever else they could to keep him alive long enough to try and cure him. The other infected soldiers attacked several villagers while on patrol the next day, and within a week, the entire town was overrun.

The survivors stared slack-jawed. Unabated, Dr. Tyre continued.

"The doctors at the time tried to create a vaccination for this form of mutated rabies, but Myopic Rage 1, or MR-1, as we refer to it, was highly unstable. It mutated constantly, and it was _the_ fastest incubating virus we'd ever encountered, thus developing a vaccine would prove to be impossible. But as it turns out, a vaccine would've been moot, as nearly every form of the mutated version of MR-1 was self destructive." Dr. Tyre said to the group of stunned survivors. He chuckled, "Frankly, it probably would've burned out in that one remote village before spreading any further; it wasn't even airborne."

"But it didn't die there." Louis said, his brow furrowing in anger.

"No it didn't. TriHex received reports of an entire town destroying itself in a bloody brawl of rage and madness induced by a unclassified virus. Naturally they were very interested in a pathogen that could overrun an entire village in less than a week. Ebola is the only other virus known to be so fast and destructive. However, it takes at least two days for a person infected with Ebola to show symptoms, not to mention Ebola will weaken its host before ultimately killing it. MR-1 _strengthens _its host, and to date, we've not seen one instance of the MR-1 virus actually _killing _it's host."

"The 'hosts' are too busy killing each other instead," Francis mumbled, thinking about several times he'd seen common infected fighting each other.

"Samples were 'acquired' from the destroyed village and sent to the home office in Europe where there are less... 'restrictions' on certain types of testing. TriHex's best researchers worked on studying and developing MR-1 for the better part of two decades before finally making some progress," Tyre continued. "By that time, TriHex was expanding market share in the U.S. With some well placed lobbyists, the company landed a large government contract providing vaccinations for U.S soldiers." He finished, turning his attention to the speechless college girl.

Zoey froze, her mind making the connection before she shrunk back in her chair like a frightened mouse. "No way..."

"Yes way," Dr. Tyre said. "With the cold war already underway, TriHex saw a golden opportunity. The U.S and Russia were engaged in a monetary drinking contest, attempting to 'spend' each other under the table with military technology. The U.S was already working developing bio weapons, some of the remnants captured from Germany after WWII." The doctor paused, letting that largely unknown fact sink in. "However, TriHex already developed the perfect biological weapon, one that the U.S was already 'acquainted' with, and with the 'red scare' driving the U.S., the pharmaceutical giant knew they'd be an easy sale. After all, the U.S considered communism a 'plague' in of itself, and they were determined to wipe it out by any means necessary."

Bill growled low, his temper beginning to flare. "TriHex created this nightmare to sell as a weapon?"

"Not exactly. It was more like a clever ransom. The only reason the U.S purchased MR-1 from them was to secure the technology for themselves. God forbid Russia got their hands on it; they weren't outside the buyer's scope of TriHex," Dr. Tyre said, completely ignoring the war veteran. "Besides, the key to success in any business is to never release everything in your product line all at once. Always keep an ace up your sleeve."

"How ethical," Louis said, clenching his fists. "I bet those bastards have a cure for this shit too but they're not about to give it out for free."

"Just what ace did... _does _TriHex have? Do they really have a cure?" Zoey asked.

Dr. Tyre said nothing, clicking the remote once more.

The video was of some local news crew, catching the carnage in the streets of Philadelphia as the virus claimed more innocent lives. A man in a business suit, huffing and puffing, yelled at the camera. "Fuck the camera! Lets get the hell out of-" He was cut off by a scream as a hooded figure pounced on him, effectively stumbling the camera man, causing him to drop his equipment. The camera lay on the street on its side, still rolling, catching only the feet of the downed victim that twitched as he screamed a gurgled protest before it was cut short by the sound of bone cracking. Shrieks and growls were heard as the attacker tore into his pray, a bit of blood splattering on the camera lens. "Shit! What the hell is that?" Another voice, presumably the cameraman's asked before a shriek interrupted him. He screamed, but it was cut off with a gurgle as though someone had slashed his throat. Seconds later, the decapitated head of the cameraman rolled in front of the lens, his expression frozen in unmistakable horror.

"Jesus H. Christ," Bill muttered.

"There's your ace, or one of them. The Special Infected, or SI, are the latest development of the MR-1 virus. That was our first field footage of an SI," Tyre said nonchalantly. "Its a shame that camera man dropped his equipment, I would've loved a better look at the attacker. Probably an MR-1 HTR type.

"What the hell is an MR-1 HTR?" Francis asked as the screen went black again.

"The field nickname for them is 'Hunters,' and they were one of the first successful 'offspring' of MR-1." Tyre said proudly, clicking another button. The projector displayed a still image of a crouching human, wearing a hooded sweatshirt with the hood pulled over his possibly vacant eye sockets. His teeth were exposed in a snarl, and he leaned forward on his feral-like clawed hands as though preparing to leap.

He clicked the button again. Another video, focusing on a coughing individual who stood atop a tall building. A sickly green smoke cloud surrounded him, obscuring his face. He coughed and wheezed before convulsing and leaning forward violently, shooting a tentacle appendage towards the camera like a cobra's strike. He was tall, with jet black hair and several tumors on his face. Choking screams could be heard as the camera thrashed about, its owner vainly fighting against the serpentine tongue. A sickening crunch, the snapping of bone, then silence, punctuated by the thud of as the camera as it hit the dirt.

"Smoker...," Louis whispered.

"Sniper type bio-weapon, MR-1 SMK," Dr. Tyre said, "though their main purpose is to create a diversion for other S.I.'s. Their smoke screen is supposed to help obscure them, unfortunately we've found that in the right artificial lighting it actually makes them _more _visible.

"Unfortunately?" Francis asked, looking to his comrades, who all wore expressions of puzzlement.

The large doctor ignored him, playing another video. The S.I. on the screen was a young woman, wearing low cut hip-hugging jeans and a tight, ripped t-shirt. For all intents and purposes she looked normal, until one noticed the exposed and engorged trachea jutting from her open throat. Her face was also nothing close to her former beauty. Her mouth appeared to be ripped at the corners, the skin of her cheeks barely covering the widened mouth. Her milky white eyes listed about aimlessly, much like her shambling walk, until she spotted the camera. A sudden shrill scream rose from her throat as her jaw unhinged, the entire top half of her head nearly falling off. The audio crackled then went dead, the scream blowing out the auditory equipment on the camera before the lens cracked, ending the video.

"What the hell was that?" Bill asked.

"That would be the MR-1 SCR, or Screamer." Dr. Tyre said, shaking his head as though disappointed. "Their screams can cause brain hemorrhaging if a person is caught up close, and disorients those in the immediate surrounding area. Their cry also calls the horde, but the horde ends up attacking the Screamer as well as its victims, thus they don't last. I'm guessing none of you encountered one?"

The survivors shook their heads.

The next video was very brief, catching only a glimpse of a muscly arm swatting a parked car towards the camera, promptly ending the video with static.

"Tank," Zoey mumbled.

"Yes that's my personal favorite," Dr. Tyre said. "Their rage is uncontrollable, but their destructive power is unmatched."

Bill raised an eyebrow as the videos continued to play. This guy definitely wasn't playing with a full deck, but the fact that he seemed almost... _proud_ of these S.I.'s put a cold void of unease in the war vet's otherwise full stomach.

Another click. Another video. This one of a Boomer vomiting bile over what looked like a stuffed dummy with a sign around its neck that read: MR-1 BMR. The camera panned to cages of trapped common infected that were suddenly released. The angry rabble tackled the dummy like a ravenous wolf pack, ripping it to pieces.

"The BMR is a very effective S.I., despite its oversized shortcomings," Dr. Tyre said. "Though their girth and unstable nature makes them easily dispatched, if they manage to get in close, most teams are done for if they're within a heavily infected area."

"As if a fat fuck like that could hide anywhere," Francis commented, thinking of the many times he'd popped the bloated bastards when they thought they were safely hidden behind a wall. He personally had never been vomited on by one, though only because Louis was a good "vomit shield" for him on several occasions. The systems analyst seemed to have the worst luck attracting the bile bloated infected.

"So true," Dr. Tyre said. "However we've noticed they tend to hide with the SMK's, atop buildings where they can 'suicide bomb' the unwary."

Another video played on the screen, this one catching Eris' attention. The room was pitch black, the camera using some sort of night-vision filter to see in the darkness. An wailing noise emanated from a slightly illuminated figure in the distance. She was huddled over, crying and sobbing, her large deadly claws half covering her face. Whispers could be heard from the cameraman and his team as they approached the bawling infected.

"Wwiiittch," Eris said with a melancholy frown. As though the cameraman could hear her, he suddenly came to a halt. The gray woman growled low, revealing her large claws and exposing her horrifying face. The camera backed away slowly, its subject staring it down before resuming its bawling on the floor.

"Well... that's a first. Seems like everyone died to get this footage, except for this guy," Zoey said, before a sudden clattering sound emanated on the screen, causing her to yelp. One of the crew members tripped in the darkness over a discarded can. The witch on the screen shrieked and charged with blazing speed, lopping the interloper's head from his shoulders before crying in rage and charging the cameraman. Just as she slashed her deadly claws upward, the video paused, forever freezing her hideous image of death on the screen.

"The MR-1 WTCH is comparable to a booby trap if you will," Dr. Tyre said, turning towards the group. "They catch the unwary off guard with their crying, though only once. After that its easy to spot them, and due to their generally reclusive nature, they're easy to avoid. Another failure..." he finished, shaking his head as the video turned to black.

"Enough of this," Bill said, barely containing his rage. "You talk about these things like they're your God damn kids!"

"So TriHex wasn't trying to simply create a doomsday virus as a 'threat'," Zoey said, her hands in her lap in anxiety. "Their real goal was to develop the ultimate bio-weapons."

"Very good," Dr. Tyre said, smiling. "That was their Ace. TriHex figured they could demand any amount of money they'd want for this technology, and again the U.S was willing to play ball."

"So what's to stop the U.S from shutting them down?" Louis asked, his voice seething with rage. "This is all their fault!"

"In order to prevent either group from having all the power, the two entities decided on a 'shared' arrangement," the doctor said. "The research for further developing MR-1, as well as a potential vaccine or cure, would have to occur in the U.S under tight military control. The U.S and TriHex sent agents to work in each others facilities, knowingly by both parties, to ensure each upheld their end of the deal."

"There's no way that would ever work," Bill growled. "There'd be some greedy or power hungry bastard from either side who'd fuck it all up by trying to steal everything." He paused for a moment, his eyes burning holes in Dr. Tyre's massive chest. "Like say some self-appointed 'general' of a secret research base."

Dr. Tyre laughed, his deep voice sending a shiver down everyone's spine. "You certainly are clever Captain Overbeck. I am indeed one of TriHex's 'agents,' in fact I was one of their top researchers who also had dual citizenship and a military background, so of course I was the ideal choice to make sure the U.S didn't breach the contract. I also was one of the original researchers who worked on 'developing' MR-1 into a new 'product line' as you've seen here. However..."

"What?" Bill asked angrily. He was getting tired of this played out horseshit.

"TriHex wasn't very happy about my decision to 'retire' with my research, yet retain my 'arranged' position as a 'general' in the U.S. Military, so they decided to take their toys and go home."

"Would you stop talking in fucking riddles? I hate riddles." the biker spat.

Dr. Tyre's expression turned flat, as though he'd like nothing more than to backhand the tattooed jackass where he sat.

"TriHex raided the military research installation where I was stationed approximately two weeks ago to steal my work. And as you can see, they botched the job big time. Several of the S.I. escaped, and in the carnage MR-1 vials were broken. I wouldn't be surprised if the entire area's water supply was contaminated."

"That explains the outbreak. So the next question," Zoey asked, "is how did you end up here?"

Tyre chuckled, sizing up the petite college girl like the way one would eye a steak before eating it. "The U.S. didn't put all their eggs in one basket as far as secret research facilities. During the chaos I escaped and 'arranged' a transfer for myself to Echo Rho Tau. The previous leader was a TriHex agent as well. He was... taken care of."

"And everyone else here is in on this shit, aren't they?" Francis asked, slowly sliding one of his hands beneath the table towards his boot.

"Not quite. Dr. Allan and his promiscuous little assistant know I worked with TriHex, but they, like most of the staff here, believe our research is focused on finding a cure for MR-1. Call it some healthy busywork."

"To blind them from the truth." Louis growled, catching a side glance from Francis. The biker was up to something, but what?

"So why tell us all this?" Zoey asked, tensing up as well. "I've seen my fair share of movies where the bad guy reveals his plans for world domination, but only because he plans on killing the person he's shared it with."

"You all went through so much trouble to return my property to me, I figured an explanation was the very least I could do." Dr. Tyre smiled, turning his attention to Eris. The gray beauty was staring back at him like a frightened animal indecisive on fight or flight. She remained perfectly still, trying to stare the behemoth down.

"What the hell are you talking about?" The war vet asked.

Tyre simply shook his head, as though pitying the couple for a moment. "Here's a thought for you all," The towering terror said to his captive guests. "The Screamer attracts the horde like the Boomer, and although she's not as large or as unstable as her oversized brethren, she cannot outrun the horde she summons, which will attack her as well. The witch on the other hand is more of a "loner" by nature, but she is very fast and very strong. She makes great 'bait,' but her deceptive crying only works once. Both of these female S.I. are essentially "one time use only" but what if you could get the best from both worlds?"

The aged war vet stared silently, waiting for the answer.

The screen flashed again as another video played. The camera was stationary, mounted on a guard tower overlooking a large open field with a few errant trees. Gentle singing could be heard as the camera zoomed in on the source. Standing in the open field was a gray skinned woman. She wore simple white garments that fluttered in the breeze along with her shimmering platinum hair. Her long deadly claws drummed against her thighs as she sang her enchanting song. The camera began to drift for a moment until the sound a light slap could be heard.

"Put your god damn ear plugs in!" An unknown voice said. "I told you she's dangerous!" The camera quickly refocused on the singing infected, zooming in. Suddenly from off to the right a hunter landed near her, maintaining a safe distance but staring at her as though entranced. Two more hunters joined next, stopping only a few yards away from the singing woman.

"She attracts other S.I. too? Make a note of that," the same chastising voice said loudly to the soldier. The camera shifted for a moment as its operator wrote furiously. "Commence startle shot in 3... 2... 1..."

A sniper's shot echoed loud over the camera, the dirt right by the singing woman's feet suddenly disturbed by the bullet.

The hunters turned with a snarl towards the guard tower, foolishly turning their back on the now silent, startled infected woman. She turned towards the closest hunter, believing him to have attacked her. A silent hush fell over the group of infected for a split second.

What happened next was nothing short of terrifying.

The singing woman unleashed a terrifying scream at her "assailant," the blood curdling cry staggering the hooded leaper back and completely disorienting him. The other two hunters were suddenly filled a driving rage, attacking the staggering infected with more ferocity than what might be typical even for them, as though they too believed their brother was the one who disturbed the singing woman. The surprised hooded infected screeched and cried as his fellow hunters ripped and clawed at him. As if to add insult to injury, a horde of common infected were drawn by the battle cry. They swarmed the three hunters, attacking in a frenzy. Some of the commoners broke from the group and attacked the singing woman, but a few swipes from her claws put them in pieces on the ground. Within minutes, the carnage settled into a mass of bodies, the ground soaking up the blood like rainwater. The gray woman stared in surprise, before the realization struck that she had done this. She broke into a sob, crying into her large hands before running off.

"S.I. MR-1 SRN, a.k.a. 'Siren,' is a complete success. Send out a recovery team to retrieve her."

The war vet stared blankly at his love, who's eyes were frozen to the screen until the clip ended.

"We never did find her," Tyre said. "Until now."

"No..." Bill whispered in disbelief.

"Come now captain. Look at her, and I mean really _look_ at her," Dr. Tyre said, an unusual softness in his hard-edged voice. "Have you ever seen a... '_witch' _as beautiful as her? Have you ever heard a witch, or even an uninfected person sing as well as she does? Dr. Allan told me how everyone, including yourself, was half hypnotized by her voice the other night."

The old vet turned to his trembling lover. She was so incredibly beautiful, so loving and kind, but was Tyre suggesting she was engineered to be that way? That her beauty and her angel's voice were simply 'tools of the trade' designed into her? He remembered briefly seeing a pair of black wings extend from her back as she sang, were they a hallucination caused by her voice? Surely she was more than just some experiment. She had feelings. She had a soul, and he'd shared his own with hers from the day they'd met.

"Biiilll..." She whispered, staring deep into his eyes. She was so frightened. Her basic cognitive memory had returned, which was a blessing like rain after a drought. But like the way the tempest follows the squall, deeper memories of her subconscious were beginning to surface. The war vet knew now why she was so afraid...

She remembered.

Bill glowered angrily at Tyre. This had gone far enough. "I don't give two shits on Sunday what you _think _Eris is, or what you _think _she was supposed to be. She's no one's property, especially not yours!" Bill defended his lover, his gray eyes a storm of rage. "She's her own person, not some God damn bride of Frankenstein you think you've created in a test tube."

"I never said she was created in a test tube," Tyre said casually. "In fact none of the S.I. we've created were engineered completely on their own. All of them were ordinary humans at some point, mutated by variants of the MR-1. You see MR-1, like any virus, lacks the ability to produce life on it's own, it requires a host."

"What gives you the right to play God?" Zoey asked as she stood, suddenly feeling a little dizzy. "And what makes you think you're gonna _keep _playing God?"

"And who's going to stop me?" Tyre asked with a smirk, walking over to the college girl.

"Get away from her," Louis warned, standing up to the huge doctor but suddenly feeling dizzy himself. With Tyre's stature, it looked like the system's analyst was standing up to a tank.

"Perhaps you should sit down," Tyre suggested.

Francis, waiting for just the right moment, pulled the knife hidden in his boot and hurled it straight for the doctor's face.

It all happened in the blink of an eye. One moment Bill saw the doctor walking over to Zoey, the next Francis hurled a hidden dagger like a damn ninja at the large man.

However, whatever had happened to his comrades was affecting Francis too. The biker's throw went wide, well away from his target.

"Hmm hmm hmm... ha ha ha ha ha!" Tyre laughed demonically. "Nice throw." He said with a snarl to the staggering biker. "I could crush all of you like five bugs under my boot, but that would ruin the fun I have planned."

Bill felt dizzy as well, his own vision going spotty. _"Dammit... he must have drugged the food." _The room was wavering like a reflection in a pool of water. Zoey, Louis, and Francis had all collapsed in their seats, vainly trying to stay conscious. Within moments their heads hit the table, the silverware clattering under their dead weight.

Eris growled threateningly, standing to face the towering man as he approached her helpless lover. Tyre chuckled the way a full grown adult laughs at an angry five year old.

"You and I are going to pick up where you ran off," Tyre said to the growling siren. Bill's head was on the table, but he was still semi-conscious. His lover was shaking, though it was hard to tell if it was fear or aggravation. She was howling louder and brandishing her claws. If Tyre didn't back off, he'd lose his head.

With a shriek, Eris swung her claw right for Tyre's meaty neck.

Bill felt his heart stop. Tyre caught her arm mid swing, stopping her lethal attack like one would catch a baseball. In a flash he'd grabbed both of her gray arms in his large hands. The last thing Bill remembered was Tyre laughing maniacally as he squeezed Eris' in a death grip, and hearing his lover cry out in fear.

"_Biiillll! Heeeellllp!"_

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A/N: If you're interested in the legal crap, it's below. Frankly I think you're more interested in leaving me a review, so go on, review! Click that link! :-P

**Legal Disclaimer (full):**

**Characters and concepts that belong to Valve: Bill, Louis, Zoey, Francis, and the generic characters of the Witch, Boomer, Smoker, Hunter, Tank, and Screamer. Also the "mutated rabies" virus is their idea.**

**Characters and concepts that belong to ****xmodius****: Siren, Eris, Tyre, Dr. Allan, Alexis, Sgt. Xavier Malory ****and Pvt. Heather Lenhart (yeah they're not in this chapter but I'm listing them anyway), the fake pharmaceutical company TriHex, and Myopic Rage-1 or MR-1 to label the mutated rabies virus. I know the virus idea is Valve's, but the label Myopic Rage and MR-1 is mine, as are all the labels of the special infected (e.g. , .HTR, etc).**

**Oh and in case it matters to Capcom, the little "Resident Ev" slip that Zoey said refers to the game and movie Resident Evil, which is property of Capcom.**

**One other mention. While the Screamer by valve looks like a man in a straight jacket, my description of her is "inspired" by a photo a friend of mine showed me on the following site:**

**www . moddb . com / games / left-4-dead / features / more-zombies, posted by**  
**Rhineville**

**I'm not plagiarizing the artist, as I already had an idea as to how i wanted the screamer to look, but since my friend showed me the photo before i finished writing the story, i guess i owe it to list the artist and that he owns the photo in the above link.**


	13. Myopic Misery

_**Legal Disclaimer: Valve owns just about everything, except the following characters that belong to me (Eris, Lenhart, Malory, Tyre, Dr. Allan, Alexis, Siren concept character). I don't own Left 4 Dead, however this subplot story, while based on the zombie apocalypse theme of Left 4 Dead, is still my idea. The naughty stuff is mine too (yeah I know I didn't invent it, but its still the product of my twisted imagination).**_

_**.  
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_Mature Content Warning: This story contains violence and sexual themes and should not be read by those under 18. And if you _are_ under 18 and you're still with me after all this, know that there's little hope for you, but take comfort in knowing that you're mortgaging your future to be well entertained. ;-)_

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A/N: Yeah another lull between chapters, however it's the holidays, and while most of the younger authors get their chance to_ catch up_ on their stories during the holidays, for me its the exact opposite. I get to spend more time with my wife and our little one. Truth be told I get most of my writing done during my lunch hour during work, so the more work-days I have the more I tend to accomplish on progressing the story. :-P

I wrote this chapter a little differently, splitting it up and creating transitions of sorts between the events. In case there are readers who don't know, _all italics _indicates a flashback or a moment that happened previously. I wanted to change things up a bit (for the better), so do let me know if this was a good change or a bad one.

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- BEGIN SHAMELESS PLUG -

Around this time of year, when the visions of sugar plums (and by that I mean toy commercials) dance in children heads and marketing brings the Christmas holiday to the forefront, I get into the spirit of things. Last year I was bit by the holiday bug (or I hit the spiked eggnog pretty hard), because I decided to write a parody on the classic story, "A Christmas Carol" by Charles Dickens. Of course, I wrote it about our favorite four survivors from Left 4 Dead. So if you, my wonderfully intelligent and review-writing fans, are in the mood for a Left 4 Dead Christmas story, I invite you to click my profile page and check out, L4D A Christmas Carol.

And of course, please review it :-D

- END SHAMELESS PLUG -

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OK! On with the show!

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Chapter 13 – Myopic Misery

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..

"_Rrrghh. Wha... where... where am I? What... happened?_"

Crusted over eyes blinked once, then twice, trying to break the firm grasp of drug-induced sleep. An unnatural white light broke through, causing said eyes to clench shut in pain.

"_My head... God damn it, this hurts."_ He thought before a sudden fit of coughing broke his internal monologue. This went on for a few seconds, followed by a perfunctory snort-clearing of the nostrils and the ejection of said payload over the side of the bed.

"_Bed? Was... was I dreaming?"_ He thought to himself before trying to sit upright. He got as far as his head tilting upwards but that was the end of it. A sharp pain in his back put a stop to that. _"Ok... easy there. Gotta orient yourself first."_ He thought to himself. He'd woken up with a broken memory and aches and pains before, though usually he was in the alley behind his favorite bar.

He could turn his head, that much was clear. He glanced at his arms, the tattoos flexing as he attempted to move, but rather sturdy looking cuffs around his wrists made that impossible. With a groan he strained to look further down his body. He still wore his street clothes, but his biker boots were strapped in around the shins by the same sturdy looking braces.

Francis blinked a few more times, his eyes adjusting to the bright light. He was indeed strapped to a bed, or some sort of operating table, though he wasn't completely flat on his back. The bed was tilted at a thirty degree angle, giving him a view of the room in which he was held captive. Sophisticated machines lined the walls of the room, making the area look more cramped than it actually was. A gentle steady beeping noise came from a heart monitor next to his bed.

"_Shit, I've seen hospital equipment before, but this looks like it's straight outta Frankenstein's lab," _Francis thought. He tried to flex his arm again, feeling a sharp stab of pain near the crook of his elbow. A needle with a tube attached was steadily pumping some kind of clear solution into his arm. He glanced further to his left and gasped in surprise.

Louis was unconscious and strapped to a bed next to him, and further to his left was Bill, strapped down and out for the count. Like a slap to the face, everything came rushing back. The dinner meeting they had with that bullshit general, and the way that towering son of a bitch practically bragged about TriHex's engineering of the special infected. He remembered throwing his hidden boot knife at the smug bastard, but his throw went wide. Whatever they put in the food hit all them pretty hard.

"Shit! Louis! Wake up!" He said in a hoarse voice. The rhythmic beeping tempo increased dramatically as the biker's heart raced. The system's analyst was still very much out of it. Several tubes ran from his arms to various machines and to a couple slow-drip bags. The biker struggled against the restraints. All of them except one by his left arm felt slightly loose. If he could just wriggle free...

"Subject number 3 heart rate exceeding acceptable levels," a computerized voice said nonchalantly. "Temporarily increasing beta blocker levels."

"The hell is a beta-" Francis yelled before suddenly feeling very dizzy. His arms and legs turned to jelly and his vision peppered with spots. "Oh... fuck... me..." The biker groaned before his head plopped back down. He was losing consciousness fast. "We.. gotta... escape." He slurred, the room spinning. "Got... to..."

.

* * *

.

"Stay put?" Lenhart asked in surprise before a hand went over her mouth.

"Shhh... Heather keep it down!" Xavier said. The two soldiers were in Dr. Allan's office, huddled around the disheveled desk as they listened to the recorded conversation. The dark-haired sergeant worried about voices carrying. He was certain half the damn base knew that the two of them had hooked up, not because Alexis would've relayed when she saw them both in each others arms, but because the walls were paper thin, and Heather had trouble keeping her voice down.

Now it was more crucial than ever to be as quiet as possible.

"Sorry," Heather whispered. "It's just... after what we heard, how can you possibly consider 'staying put'?"

"Honey, from what I just heard, the general stopped a witch dead in her tracks," Alexis said with a tired sigh. "Charging in with brute force would be suicidal."

"It's impossible," Dr. Allan said, running his hand over his eyes. "Tyre's a big guy, but there's no way he could've stopped Eris all on his own."

"Who cares _how _he did it?" Lenhart said, her frustration rising again. "He's obviously going to do _something _with her... with all of them. Xavier, we have to take action _now._"

Xavier sighed. Being a soldier, he was used to working under pressure. He was used to changing plans when the situation insisted on it, but the recent developments had frazzled even _his_ normally calm and collected mind. Though the new arrivals hadn't caused any trouble in the week they'd been here, he _still _didn't trust them any more than he would any other stranger. Apparently Dr. Allan had a similar sense of distrust, though surprisingly – at the time – it was directed more towards Tyre and what he would tell the survivors. So when the CMO asked the sergeant to slip a microphone into the laundered clothes, he was all for it. Before the laundered clothes were delivered, Malory slipped a tiny microphone/tracking device into the war vet's cargo pocket. If the five survivors had any ulterior motives, Malory would be the first to know about it.

Only after the recorded conversation did Malory learn the real reason for Dr. Allan's suspicions.

"He's been obsessed with trying to control the Special Infected," Dr. Allan said. "I could never understand why he'd even pursued this; you'd think a cure for this mutated rabies- sorry... 'MR-1'" he said, making quotation marks in the air with his fingers, he still wasn't used to calling it that, hell he'd never heard of that code name before, "... you'd think a cure would be the first priority. I knew Tyre had a medical background, but.." he shook his head and squeezed at his face again as Alexis soothingly rubbed his back. "This whole thing with TriHex... Christ it really _is _some God damn conspiracy!"

Xavier didn't answer, he was still trying to process all of this. What to do... They couldn't just charge in. Like Alexis said, that would be suicidal. No. They would have to be stealthy to get them out of there without a major fight.

But then what? Where would they go? Even if they escaped, Tyre would certainly come after them. It was apparent he needed Eris to continue whatever the hell he'd started at the last base he was at.

"For Eris' sake, we've got to do something," Alexis said with a slight quiver in her voice, her calm demeanor beginning to crack.

Eris. The witch who'd surprised everyone, especially himself. She and the war vet's little sexual display had completely floored the two soldiers their first night on watch. In a way, the candid act was responsible for breaking the walls around their feelings for one another. Since that night, Heather and Xavier spent any downtime they had in each others' company, their relationship growing from mere comrades into a full out couple. Both of them knew that so long as they had each other, they could handle anything this world-gone-to-hell could throw at them.

However, nothing would have prepared either of them for everything they'd just heard.

Malory pondered on the eavesdropped conversation. Neither he nor Heather had ever seen the general, though Simmons claimed to have talked to him once. He was a mostly reclusive individual, though Malory chalked that up to his position and the current state of the world. As a soldier, he didn't question his orders, he followed them. It was simple, it worked, and it was his duty.

Duty that was all based on a lie.

Everything General, or rather Doctor, Tyre had laid out was caught by the tiny microphone. And every time any of them thought it couldn't get anymore unbelievable, they would hear something else that raised the now-I've-heard-everything bar a notch higher.

The entire recorded conversation answered a lot of nagging questions, but had raised other more important ones. Exactly how many people were in on this, and how many were kept in the dark like himself or Dr. Allan? What was Tyre's ultimate plans with TriHex and the S.I.? And how did Tyre manage to subdue a witch, or siren, or whatever the hell Eris was supposed to be, all by himself? Malory heard her attack, then some strange crackling noise that he chalked up to radio interference, then Eris crying for help. The gray woman was easily three times stronger than that of any muscled individual...

A sudden light slap on the cheek interrupted his thoughts.

"Hey! Xavier!" Heather said in a harsh whisper after lightly slapping his face. "We have to do something! I'm sure Tyre is going to kill them, and Eris..." she turned away for a moment, the thought making her ill, "God knows what he has planned for her. We have to stop him. We have to get them out of here. Hell, _we _have to get out of here! This whole damn base is a lie!"

"Which is exactly why we need to stay put," Malory said, his calm commanding demeanor coming through once more. "We can't let on that we know anything."

A sudden beep from Malory's radio caused everyone to jump.

"Sgt. Malory," the radio voice said.

"Yes," he replied, trying to maintain his cool.

"There's been an incident with the four arrivals. They are currently unconscious, but are to be considered as very hostile. Get down here on the double," the hand-held device said.

He caught a momentary glance from Heather who mouthed, "Four?"

Malory shook his head, expecting this. "Roger that, Malory out."

"So much for staying put," Heather said with more than a little relief as she gathered her gear.

"I wasn't a big fan of 'wait-and-see' anyway," Malory said with a smirk, before turning to the doctor and his dark-skinned assistant. "Dr. Allan, can you get a room cleared with a little privacy? Like say an operating room?"

"Yes..." the CMO answered with a little hesitation.

"Don't worry, we've not cutting anyone open," the sergeant said as he slung his rifle over his shoulder. "C'mon Lenhart, lets..."

.

* * *

.

"Move!" The soldier shouted to the stumbling gray woman as the elevator doors opened.

Eris shambled quickly down a dark corridor, being ushered by two soldiers who kept a healthy distance. They each held long steel poles with metal grip clamps on the end, holding the siren by her by her arms but keeping her well away to avoid any "surprise retaliation." She stumbled once, her gaze focused on the floor.

"Keep moving freak," One of the soldiers ordered, shoving her with his pole grip.

The siren complied and tried to maintain her gait. She was only partially conscious, the large intimidating man had done something right when she attacked him. The last thing she remembered was bringing her lethal fingernails in an arc to slash his throat, but a sudden piercing sound stopped her dead. The pain was crippling, and before she could even attempt to cover her ears, the towering man grabbed her by both arms, pinning her down. She could barely hear his laughter over the high-pitched whine that seemed to pierce her skull like a knife.

Her head hung low as the two grunts behind her steered her around another corner with their pole grips. The trio approached a security checkpoint that branched like a "Y" leading to two cell areas. The guard waved them to the left corridor without a word. Further down they came to a large security door with a numeric keypad.

One guard let go of the gray griever they eyed her to see if she was waiting for an opportunity. Eris sobbed quietly, her white perm hanging in her face as she stared at the floor. The infected freak was too caught up in her own self-loathing to bother trying anything. When he was sure she wouldn't move, he turned his back and approached the security panel.

With a shriek, Eris lunged to stab the bastard right through his spine.

"Gyyaaaaahh!"

Eris screamed as the same high-pitched sound assaulted her ears. Before she had a chance to even attempt to cover her ears, the other guard slammed her against the concrete wall with his pole grip.

"This stupid bitch must think we were born yesterday," he growled, pushing her against the wall while his comrade quickly produced a pair of handcuffs, harshly slapping them over Eris' wrists.

The first guard resumed punching in the unlock code. Eris growled, her cheek pressed against the cold concrete wall. The guard holding her pushed her harder against the wall and barked, "Try any shit like that ever again, and I'll rip out your lover's heart and feed it to you."

"Biilll..." she slurred once, before a sudden jerk on one arm jolted her away from the wall.

With a snap-hiss, the heavy door slid open, revealing a large containment area. Straight ahead was another large door with a sign above it that read, "Primary Testing Area." To the left and right were various cells, all of which had a solid door and huge reinforced plexiglass panel where bars would normally be. Near the top of the glass, fist-sized holes were spaced in a row, most likely to allow ventilation. Growls and grunts could be heard from the numerous cells, their inhabitants apparently set off by the commotion outside. The entire area was dank, dirty, dark, and depressing. It made death row look cozy.

Eris trudged past the cells with her escort. The outlines of various figures shined through the walls to her golden eyes, and as she passed each one, their inhabitants came into view. To her right was a tall and rather lanky looking fellow. He had huge boils surrounding his jaw and the right half of his face. He shambled about in his cell, clawing at the walls as though trying dig his way out. A sickly green aura of smoke trailed his erratic movements.

However, the moment the two soldiers came into view, the tall infected froze and stared with anger in his one visible eye. He hacked like a cat about to cough up a fur ball, then a long serpentine tongue shot from his mouth like a cobra, harmlessly striking the scratched but otherwise solid plexiglass wall.

"Still trying to break that plexiglass, eh smokey," a guard said, making to reach into his pocket in a threatening manner. The smoker snarled and retreated to a corner of the cell, coughing harder and covering his ears. The gray goddess looked on with a puzzled air. She didn't hear anything.

In the cell across from the cowering infected was a very large male, easily six feet tall and nearly as wide. He too was filthy and disheveled, his oversized sweatpants stained with dirt, vomit, and other disgusting bodily excrement. The fat creature's gut was _huge, _the biggest pot belly even a fanatical beer drinker would ever hope to see in their short lifetime. His shirt, covered in dried splatters of vomit, barely fit over his chest, leaving his gigantic belly completely exposed. The skin showed large cracks and stretchmarks, and his belly button had distended, revealing a sickly purplish sack that was likely his intestine. His cell was covered in violent-looking vomit blasts; in fact it was a surprise he was even visible through the plexiglass, as most of it was splattered with the same disgusting green puke.

The bloated thing gurgled and groaned, a huge sack beneath it's chin quivering as it waddled towards the new arrival. It eyed her for a moment, then glared at the two guards escorting. With a loud groan the huge infected blew chucks right at the escorts, the green bile splattering harmlessly against the plexiglass.

"Hah. Guess he likes you, that or he wants to eat you." One guard laughed. The huge infected staggered over to a corner and leaned on his knees, coughing up what little bile remained in his throat before catching one final glance at the new arrival as she was shuffled out of sight. Eris whimpered sympathetically as the large man gasped for breath; he appeared to be in a lot of pain.

The next pair of cells was also occupied. To the left, another special infected was quite literally bouncing off the walls. He was completely naked save for a pair of tattered shorts and a bit of duct tape that wrapped portions of his legs and part of his arms. Ashen gray skin, taught over an athletic frame, was covered in dried blood and sweat. Matted black hair half hung over his vacant-looking eyes. His clawed hands and feet were cracked and bloody, and the walls and ceiling of his cell was dotted with light pink hand prints and claw marks. Eris recognized the hunter and looked away; she had nothing but unpleasant memories of his kind. The frantic creature landed near the bars as Eris walked by, holding still and sniffing at the air as she passed. A low growl started in his throat.

"Shut up you!" One of the guards said, reaching into his pocket again as though about to grab something.

The duct-taped wrapped creature whimpered like a kicked dog, crawling over to a far corner and covering his ears with dirty hands. Yet again, Eris heard nothing.

"Doesn't look like there are any more cells available here," the first guard said.

"Tyre wanted this one ready for testing immediately," the second guard said, rubbing his chin in thought. "Let's put her in with 'lock jaw.'"

Eris was directed towards the last cell on the right. This cell had plexiglass like the others, but while the other cells appeared very dingy and damaged, this cell was surprisingly clean and unblemished, as though it's owner had never tried to escape. Another snap hiss, and the door to the cell slid open. The gray woman hesitated in the doorway. The cell appeared empty, but...

With a violent shove into the plexiglass prison, Eris' journey was brought to an end. She nearly fell flat on her face, unable to break her fall since her hands were cuffed.

"Enjoy your new cell mate," one of the two guards said as the door slammed shut. Eris could only barely hear the echo of their laughter, which grew faint as they headed back down the hall.

The gray griever was on her knees, grunting and trying in vain to break the cuffs around her wrists. She struggled and strained for a few minutes before finally giving up with a gasp of exhaustion. It was hopeless. If her hands were in front of her, she might have had the strength to break the steel, but it was too awkward a position with her hands behind her.

With one final cry of aggravation, Eris broke down and sobbed hard, something she hadn't done since before meeting the survivors. She thought she'd escaped that towering man and the hell he put her through. The days of poking and prodding, needles that promised nothing but anxiety, sleepless nights, and cold sweats. Every day was more tests and drugs, more nights of unrest, until finally the day came she thought never would: The day she was let go.

It was the best, and then the worst, day of her life.

She replayed that moment in her head, a portion of it shared with her friends only moments earlier on the projector screen. Though the camera had no biases, recording only what its mechanical eye could see, a great deal had been overlooked that night. Eris remembered it from _her _point of view. Before that fateful night, before she was filled with the false sense of...

.

* * *

.

_Relief._

_Tyre sighed as Eris finally succumbed to the high-pitched noise, its sound waves unheard by most human ears but crippling to the mutated special infected. She'd nearly taken his head off, and had he not flicked that switch in time..._

_No. He was much faster and far stronger than her anyway. He had the modified MR-1 virus to thank for that._

_Two guards suddenly burst through the door, eyes with a slight red tinge scanning the room._

"_I want this one ready for testing immediately, so put her in one of the holding cells outside the primary testing area in sub level three," Tyre commanded. The two members of his "personal" staff grabbed the stunned siren by two poles with grips on the end, then escorted her out of the room. _

_Tyre chuckled approvingly. The corrupted soldiers, most of which were hidden from the rest of the base, did his bidding with zeal. MR-1 created a kinship of sorts among those it infected, hence why the S.I. would never attack each other unless deliberately provoked, and why the most of the common zombies would shamble about, completely ignoring others of their kind. It was merely a matter of utilizing that viral "kinship" to extend his level of control over the soldiers under his command. When Dr. Tyre had finally found out how to isolate and dampen the rage-inducing effects of the virus, he also found the perfect means to build his own army. Routine flu shots were given to the majority of the staff on a voluntary basis. Though he could have made that mandatory as his right as general, he wanted to see how well the "turned" soldiers and staff under him would act around uninfected people. So far, they'd been a complete success._

_He chuckled almost mirthfully, glancing at the four unconscious immune humans as he casually walked around the table, raising an eyebrow of approval at the college girl's lithe frame, then growling at the tattooed biker. He'd love nothing more than to torture that one with the painful transformation of MR-1's engineered S.I. strains, but his immunity, as well as the others, would make the effort fruitless._

_For now._

_Oh yes, he had big plans for these "survivors." And if his experiments or need for more immune blood didn't kill them outright before he reached his goal, he would take great delight in corrupting them into the very first controlled S.I.'s, a feat now only just beyond his reach._

_For unknown reasons, the S.I. strains of MR-1 could not be purged of the insatiable rage and mind-clouding negative effects that eliminated self-control and rational thought. Attempts to create S.I strains without these negative attributes often resulted in a very weakened and mentally regressed S.I., no better than a common zombie. Thus it was a trade off, an all powerful bio-weapon S.I. that was uncontrollable, or a slightly stronger "normal" soldier that was._

_Eris was the only exception to this rule. Her DNA and the mutated MR-1 had actually _combined_ to create a new type of species. An amazing accidental discovery, considering Tyre was only interested in creating another type of S.I. with her. Once he had discovered Eris retained most of her humanity, the tests began. He'd come close, oh so close, in creating an S.I. version of MR-1 that would not take over the host, but merge with it. However, his pretty little "guinea pig" escaped during that first field test of her abilities, and his work had come to a grinding halt. Still, his accidental discovery was the groundwork for creating the enhanced "zombie solider" that was by no means stronger than an S.I., but still stronger than the average human._

_But to be content with this would be to admit failure, and Dr. Tyre would never allow that little mark to mar his otherwise decades-long, flawless record of success as a researcher. Once he realized the full potential of MR-1, he knew he could change the world. No longer would countries squabble over petty differences like natural resources, territory disputes, religion, love, hate, or other such humanly trivial matters. The entire world would become assimilated, no united, beneath his rule. Oh there would be bumps along the road to power, but with the majority of the United States in disarray and his growing army of faithful soldiers, he would ascend to power._

_The tyrant's eyes gleamed with excitement, the faintest tinge of red swirling in his irises. He had Eris' blood now, and wasted no time picking up where he'd left off. With her captive, he'd have a nearly endless supply of plasma, a limitless canvas on which to design his most incredible creation yet. With enough time, he was confident he could create more sentient S.I. like Eris, ones that had complete control over their viral corruption and obeyed his every command. And if they ever got out of line, a certain frequency-emitting device would cause incapacitating pain and, if left long enough, would ultimately kill them. _That_ little gem of information was courtesy of the former TriHex appointed commander of this research facility. Tyre didn't yet understand why this frequency would not bother common infected or even partially infected like himself and the corrupted soldiers, but full blown S.I. were very susceptible to it._

_It truly was a glorious plan, and it was finally coming to fruition. With the blood of immune humans, he could continue working towards his goal to make MR-1 100% communicable. Once that was done, nothing would stop him from spreading MR-1, and his reach, across the globe._

_The doors slammed open as a squad of soldiers hurried in, interrupting his internal moment of glory._

"_Take these four to the primary testing lab in basement sub level three, and prepare them for plasma extraction," Tyre said, voice stone cold, a contrast to the fire of excitement burning within his soul. "They are to be considered extremely dangerous, they attacked me without provocation," he continued._

"_Yes sir," one soldier, a sergeant by the looks of his rank, replied before ordering his men. The soldiers moved quickly, restraining the survivors before loading them onto wheeled tables. Tyre watched with a curious eye, some of the soldiers in the group were "turned" by him, a few were not, but those who were still human didn't seem to notice, and those who were said nothing._

_After a few moments the squad finished their work and wheeled the unconscious survivors out, leaving the deranged doctor to resume his thoughts on his ultimate rise to world domination._

_._

* * *

.

"Bill... ake up..."

"_Huh? What the?"_

"C'mon... wak... up... ill..."

"_Where am I? So sleepy. Hear... something..."_

"Bill! Wake up!"

"Wha...?" The old war vet groaned, spots clearing from his eyes.

"Whew. Thank goodness. I thought we lost you for a second there," Louis said. The war veteran saw the systems analyst awake, but strapped to a bed at a thirty degree angle. Looking down, he saw he was restrained in the same way.

"I'm getting too old for this horseshit," Bill grumbled, flexing his arms once against the restraints. To his right he saw Louis' haggard, yet optimistic face. Next to him was an unconscious Francis, but beyond that...

"Wait a minute... where's Eris? Where's Zoey?" Bill said, starting to panic.

"Easy there Bill," Louis said, trying to be calm. "You don't wanna get too excited or..."

"Subject number 1 heart rate exceeding acceptable levels," a computerized voice interrupted. "Temporarily increasing beta blocker levels."

"Or that happens..." Louis sighed.

"Eris!" He panicked, but only for a moment. He suddenly felt so relaxed. Worried yet mellow. These drugs worked fast. "Eris... Errisss..." Bill groaned before falling unconscious.

The systems analyst heard that computerized voice when Francis tried to wake him in a panic. Any attempts to move or any excitement would cause them to be knocked out by whatever drugs Tyre had pumping into their veins. He scanned the large room, trying to figure out some of the equipment lining the walls and kill some time; it would only be a few minutes before those "beta-blockers" wore off and he could try waking Bill again.

The dark man didn't recognize most of the medical equipment, however he saw several console computers and even a server rack. To the left of one of the console machines stood a metal refrigerator with a glass door. Inside were several needles sitting in racks, almost like one would see items in a grocery's frozen section. It was hard to make out, but Louis noticed printed labels beneath each set of needles.

"HTR... BMR... SMK... WTCH..." Louis whispered, though only to himself. As he continued reading the labels, he noticed the next three stood out from the rest. They were handwritten, suggesting that these new variants had come only recently.

"SRN... Siren? Like Eris?" Louis asked himself. He read the next one. CSP? What the hell was that? Beneath the label in parentheses was (Common Soldier Prototype).

Shit! Tyre really _was _going to create his own army! God knew then just how many of the people here were one of these CSP's. It was no wonder they hadn't seen a lot of soldiers walking around, most of them were surely infected and being kept out of sight, but where? He read the next...

And his heart stopped.

"S-TNK," Louis choked, reading the parentheses below: (Prototype Enhanced Tank variant).

"An enhanced... tank? A super tank?" Louis stammered, suddenly blinking as an errant bead of sweat ran down his forehead into his eye. An _ordinary _tank was a force to be reckoned with! Their huge muscled arms could slap abandoned cars aside the way a drunk punk would kick over a chair in a bar. They were so powerful it took Louis and his three friends unloading everything they had to bring one down. To even conceive a monster more powerful than that...

"C'mon Bill," Louis urged, trying to wake the veteran. The three of them could come up with a plan to escape, or at least him and Bill. "You gotta wake up Bill! Please! For Eris."

"Erriss," Bill mumbled, having slipped into the darkness. "Erissss..."

.

* * *

.

"_ris... Ers... Eris..."_

_The melancholy woman looked up at the tall doctor, all business in his white scrubs and mask. He was talking to her, though she couldn't make out everything he said. Her mind was constantly drifting in and out of reality,a result of the multitude of drugs and other tests._

"_Eris... time..." She only faintly heard him say in a voice that sounded eons away. "It's time... you... let go."_

"_Time? Go?" She sang hopefully, staring up at him with quivering amber eyes._

_The doctor smiled and extended his gloved hand, gently pulling her up by her claws. "Yes my dear, its time."_

_The cool night air felt wonderful on her skin; she hadn't seen the sky in ages. She heard the doctor's words echoing in her head, and it filled her bosom with warmth. She was so happy. Her time in this wretched prison was finally done. She couldn't remember what she'd even done to deserve her sentence, or even when she'd come to this terrible place, but whatever was her crime, she'd finally done the time._

_She was let go. She was free._

_Eris sang happily as the winds ruffled her clothes, as though the heavens were urging her away from the terrible place. The sky was thick with clouds, completely obscuring what little moonlight would've lit up the forests ahead, but she didn't care. She looked back briefly at the soldiers atop the guard towers, their bodies aglow with a faint aura that made them stand out like fireflies in the darkness. She paused her celebratory song and waved happily, as though bidding farewell to her captors would bring a sense of closure. They didn't wave back._

_They simply watched._

_Returning her attention to the tree line, she continued her song like a sparrow in the springtime. Faint, animal-like growls from the woods reached her ears, the outlines of other infected showing up on her "radar." They were the leaping types, though she couldn't recall their names. All she knew was they were rather pitiful looking in the lab, whimpering and whining when returned to their cells, after the doctor had finished his horrible tests._

_She sang louder, beckoning her brethren to come closer. They must have been freed too if they were out here. She'd been in isolation for an immeasurable length of time, not counting the hours she spent under the doctor's watch. Their company would be welcome._

_With a screech that was signature of their kind, three of the leapers emerged from the tree line, their jumps landing them several feet away from the docile infected. All three were like the ones she'd seen in the lab, unkempt mangy hair that hung over vacant eyes, beastly claws for hands and feet, though nowhere near the size of her own sword-like fingernails. Sharp teeth clenched in a hostile expression, ready to tear into fresh meat._

_They began to circle her like lions would a helpless gazelle, yet every time she directed her angel's voice at one, they would back away, the growls dying in their throats. Eris could sympathize with her infected brethren. She could smell their fear and apprehension as though it hung in the air like the evening mist. They looked haggard and tired, and appeared just as wary of her as she was of them._

_Eris continued to sing, unabated by the tension, her serenade turning their growls to gentle purring. One hunter sniffed the air around her, the others following suit as they gathered her scent. The gray woman smiled as one suddenly sat on his haunches, scratching at his cheek with his foot. Another drew closer, still growling warily, though his body did not seem nearly as tense as it did moments earlier. He crawled within arms reach, sniffing at her clothes with interest. She reached out with a slightly shaking claw to pet the hooded creature, who in turn purred like a content cat and pressed his face against her outer thigh. It seemed the air of tension was finally beginning to disperse._

_Until the loud crack of a sniper rifle shattered her gentle song._

_The ground was disturbed as the sniper bullet just grazed her foot, nearly clipping the closest prowling creature. The hunter growled angrily, about to turn his attention away from the startled siren, his brothers having noticed the uninfected prey in the guard tower not too far away._

_Eris stood stunned for only a second, her mind processing what had just happened._

"_Leaper threatened me. Eris nice but Leaper threatened me." Once this broken thought was comprehended, an unnatural anger began to rise within her like a volcano about to erupt._

_And when it did, Eris' lingering humanity was consumed in the fires of her rage._

_They gray woman threw her chest forward and screamed at the hunter like an angry banshee, furious that her kindness was met with open hostility. The stunned leaper stumbled backwards, screeching in pain, fresh blood pouring down his gray sunken cheeks from his now claw-covered ears. The other two hunters were disoriented from the sudden outcry, but only for a moment. They snarled at the dazed infected, completely forgetting about the distant sniper. Their sister's screech was maddening, focusing them both into a single minded fury to butcher whatever she directed it towards. They were on him in an instant, thick dirty claws digging into the helpless hunter's gray flesh. Eris brandished her own claws, preparing to eviscerate the traitorous infected and his two "friends," but a horde of raged common zombies answered the battle cry. They swarmed from the trees like rats from a burning building, screaming and babbling as they dog-piled on the three hunters, all of them fighting for a piece of their hides. _

_The other two hunters yelped in surprise as the mob overpowered them. One or two commoners lost their entrails with their reckless attack, but in no time the three prowling infected were completely overwhelmed. The enraged zombies who could not reach the crushed hunters instead turned on each other. The blood-lust spread like a wild fire. Within seconds, it was an all-out brawl._

_The siren stared slack-jawed at the mob as her humanity returned to her, errant bits of blood splattering on her face and dress as the slaughter took place only a few feet away. It was horrifying. It was disgusting. It was brutal._

_And it was all her fault._

_Eris turned her gaze skyward and screamed to the heavens. Why was she was plagued with such misfortune? What could she do to escape this constant torment, if not from experiments and isolation, then from causing the outright butchery of her own kind? _

_Her cry was cut short as another spray of blood moistened her face. The nightmares hadn't stopped, they never would stop so long as she remained here. Looking towards the gates of her prison, soldiers were rapidly filing out and rushing towards the blood bath. She doubted it was to break up the fight. Most likely they were coming for her._

_No. She would never go back. She would run away. She would hide, huddled in the darkness, away from her cruel fate._

_And then maybe, just maybe, her luck would change._

_So she ran. Ran far away. And she hid. For a long time. Until every memory laden with guilt had been all but completely buried in her mind like countless bodies were buried beneath the earth when the infection went nationwide._

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* * *

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A muffled cry reached Eris' ears, snapping her out of her painful memory. Off in the far corner, away from the plexiglass, sat a pitiful looking creature bound in a straight jacket. Human-like, and distinctly female, her womanly curves hidden but not unnoticeable beneath her restrictive clothing. Mousy black hair reached her shoulders, partially obscuring her face as it hung in front of her like a midnight curtain. Her face, or rather what could be seen of it, was an off-white but very pale visage of anguish and suffering. Her eyes were a solid black, without visible iris or sclera, suggesting she might well be blind though she didn't seem to have any trouble focusing on the new arrival.

The muted female grunted once and staggered to her feet, pressing her back against the wall to steady herself. She tried to speak again, but could only manage muffled whimpers. Eris' jaw fell open in shock when she realized why.

Her lips were stitched shut with coarse thread. Painful looking pin marks adorned her upper and lower lips where the thread snaked through. The cross stitching started about an inch away from the center of her lips on both sides leaving a hole barely large enough to sip water from. The thread extended beyond the corners of her mouth and well past her cheekbones. If not for the thread, it looked as though her entire jaw would fall off. Her neck was wrapped in many blood-stained bandages, the dressings long overdue for a changing. Her neck seemed to bulge beneath the wrappings, as though something were straining beneath them.

She shambled towards the helpless siren who was scooting backwards on her rump, unsure of what to do. Cold concrete halted Eris' retreat as she hit the wall. The silenced infected grunted again as she nearly lost her balance, but she quickly regained herself and continued her advance.

Eris clenched her eyes and struggled again at her restraints, desperately trying to break the steel cuffs, but to no avail. She wasn't sure what, if anything, her cell mate could do; she was just as restrained as herself, but her abrupt approach still worried the struggling siren.

When her eyes opened again, the pitiful creature was kneeling right in front of her. She eyed the gray woman with curiosity, her nose twitching slightly as she sniffed the air around her.

"Heeelllooo?" Eris asked in confused introduction. The mousy-haired woman stared intently at her for a moment, before answering with muffled whimpers as she strained against the stitches. Scabs around the threads were reopened as she tried to vocalize, droplets of blood running in thin streams over her lips. Tears chase her blood trails, the bound woman realized yet again that any attempt to talk was painfully hopeless.

She sobbed and fell into the gray goddess, crying into her shoulder.

Eris was unsure of what to do. Looking around she could see the outlines of the other S.I. as they ceased moving and watched from their cells, likely able to "see" through the walls just as well as she could. The hunter directly across from her pressed himself against the plexiglass, claws above his head dragging down the impenetrable barrier. He howled, a wail of mourning and frustration as tears ran from his own vacant eyes.

The gray goddess felt tears welling up in her own eyes, realizing the woman on her shoulder likely never felt comfort or affection. After all she was just an expendable experiment, like herself. Eris remembered spending many nights cold and alone in her cell, with nothing to look forward to but the next day of poking, prodding, and testing. It was the closest thing to interaction she ever got. Until she met the survivors, until she met _him,_ she never knew what it meant to be loved and cared for.

Who cared for the sobbing mute that was bawling muffled tears into her neck? Who cared for the other S.I. that suffered in their cells, who didn't ask for this anymore than she did?

As though she could read her thoughts, the mute female leaning on her shoulder shook and quivered as another sob racked her body. Eris remembered her lover's anguish when he was a prisoner to his nightmares, and how she helped him break free.

Eris nuzzled the mute's mousy hair with her cheek, gently humming the song she'd sang that took half the base under her spell that night she danced with Bill. Her cellmate's sobs relented to quiet, short breaths as she calmed down, though she still strained a little under her straight-jacket. Noticing her companion's positive change, Eris raised her melody from a hum into a soft, wordless song, trying to soothe the raven haired woman. The pale crier sniffled and shuffled herself, sitting next to the gray goddess and leaning into her like a child rests her head in her mother's shoulder. She still trembled but cooed approvingly, or as much as she could through her stitched lips.

The siren's singing had steadily risen, her beautiful voice piercing the walls and reaching the ears of her brethren. The other three cellmates were motionless, all of them staring towards her as she sang her soothing melody. The hunter, the only S.I. she could see without looking for an outline, sat on the floor of his cell, one claw gently stroking the glass as though he were imitating stroking the siren's long platinum mane.

Eris sang louder still, wanting to comfort all of her fellow prisoners. Her cellmate murmured happily at the beautiful white-haired woman and nuzzled her neck, drawing in a deep breath. The gray goddess shivered, not unpleasantly, her thoughts drifting to her brave, steel-eyed lover. She thought of him, of all the survivors, and the adventure they'd shared together. They were the reason her life had meaning. They were her strength. Her hope. The reason she no longer cried day after day. They'd become a family of sorts in this apocalyptic nightmare. Surviving... together.

Her amber eyes narrowed in determination, her melody unwavering. She owed it to Bill; to Zoey, to Louis, and to Francis, to be strong. She owed it to the survivors to escape. Escape together.

"Surrrvviivvvooor," Eris sang.

They were survivors. And she was too.

The gray goddess finished her melody, earning a slight whimper from the woman on her shoulder who was rubbing against her, urging her to continue the way a cat urges for more petting. Eris struggled again with her cuffs in an attempt to break them. She grunted and strained, but the cuffs would not give an inch. She would not relent. She would not give up.

Then she heard the sound of tearing cloth...

Rrrrriiiiiii-

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* * *

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-iiiiiiiippp!

"Ow! That hurt!" Zoey yelled as the medical tape was ripped from her lips, damn near taking them with it. She sat up slowly, the remains of a wicked headache pounding her brain. She was in an operating room, with two of the base's finest assholes in their camouflage uniforms standing aside her. Near the foot of the table stood Dr. Allan and that promiscuous R.N who earlier was all over Francis. She rubbed her lips and scowled, before suddenly realizing her hands were free...

"Sorry about the tape over the mouth," Alexis said. "But we didn't want to risk-"

Zoey was up in a second, lashing out at the soldier to her left.

"Woah woah! Take it easy!" Malory said, quickly dodging a hook to his jaw. Another soldier, a petite female, though no less tough for her size, quickly pinned the college girl down before she could fully get up.

"Hey time out!" She said. The college girl stopped for a moment, her angry blue eyes piercing the soldier atop her like a knife. "Relax! We're not going to hurt you."

"The hell you fucking aren't!" Zoey yelled, struggling again.

"Do you...rrrghh... think we would've removed your... damnit stop that... restraints if we weren't trying to help you?" Heather gasped as she wrestled with Zoey.

Zoey stopped, staring at her captor, trying to find a trace of deception. Lenhart eyed her suspiciously as well, then slowly released her grip.

"Where-" Zoey started, before Sgt. Malory gestured with a finger to his lips. "Rrggh... Where are my friends?" The college girl hissed, straining to keep her frustrations down to a whispered level.

"In one of the basement sub-levels," Dr. Allan said. "Eris was taken right after you all fell unconscious."

Zoey opened her mouth to ask, but the sergeant beat her to the punch. "We heard everything," Malory replied. "The entire conversation you all had with General... er... Doctor Tyre," the Sergeant said, correcting himself.

"This entire base is a damn lie," the petite soldier said in a frustrated whisper of her own. "We want out of here."

"And where exactly do me or my friends fit in with you and your 'boyfriend's' plans to 'elope'?" Zoey asked mockingly.

"We could always use a flower girl," Lenhart replied dryly.

The hazel-eyed sergeant blushed visibly, coughing once to clear his throat. The ebony R.N. couldn't help but giggle, yet her mirth only further enraged the captive survivor.

Malory quickly interjected, "Too many people have already died because of Tyre's brainchild virus, and I'll be damned if I'm going to watch more innocents suffer for his twisted research."

Zoey scoffed, "Whatever. The whole 'hero' role is not only played out, but very trite at this point. You really think helping us is going to clear your conscience, or stop a nut job like Tyre? If you actually cared about us you never would've let _him _take samples of Eris' blood." Zoey glared at Dr. Allan who visibly shrunk back. "Why do any of you suddenly give two shits about me or my friends?"

"Because Eris deserves a chance at a real life," Alexis said, stone-faced at first. "I've never met a _person _who's so happy, who has such a zest for life or who has so much love for her friends." She sighed, a dreamy look in her chocolate brown eyes, before staring deadpan again at the college girl. "She's a fallen angel who found her wings. We _can't_ let Tyre take them from her again!"

The auburn-haired girl fell silent, limpid pools of pain and regret in her baby blues.

"She's proof that this virus can be beaten, but also that intelligent and obedient Special Infected could be created," Dr. Allan interrupted, a dark edge in his voice. "If Tyre's as clever as he is crazy, he could be planning for world domination."

Zoey stared blankly at him; this sounded way too far-fetched yet the thought still chilled her to the bone.

"In any case," the doctor continued, "we cannot allow him to continue his research with Eris. I'm sure he's got his own plans for you and your friends as well."

The college girl sighed. Though she didn't trust any of these military jerks as far as she could throw Francis out of the bathroom in the morning, she wasn't going to be able to rescue her friends on her own. She really was stuck between a rock and a hard place, but it could be worse...

"So what's the plan?" she sighed.

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* * *

.

Eris amber eyes widened at the sound of fabric ripping. In her cellmate's attempts to nuzzle, she managed to accidentally snake the blades of the siren's sizable claws beneath the straps of her jacket. Eris had already ripped through one of the straps with her own struggling.

The two women locked eyes as if reading each others' minds.

Eris flexed her wrists, working her sharp nails beneath the straight-jacket. The mute infected began rubbing herself against the sharp blades, sawing through the tough cloth.

Within moments the confined infected tore the rest of the jacket free, tossing it aside as she rose to her feet. She stood proudly and stretched her arms over her head, sighing happily. Eris grinned, wanting to hug her and share in her joy, even though she was still shackled. The standing infected ran her hands over her body in an almost sultry manner, then promptly began scratching herself like mad. Who knew how long she'd been bound like that and unable to scratch an itch? She groaned with relief as she quickly worked herself over. Eris started to giggle, but she was hastily yanked to her feet by her new friend.

Rather sharp clawed hands hoisted her up by her arms, and Eris let out a yelp of surprise as the excited infected turned her around. The freed woman wasted no time as she dug her claws into the chain of the cuffs, grunting as she pulled at the metal. Catching on, Eris pulled at the cuffs again, hoping their combined efforts would break the steel bonds. The chain was starting to give with the mute's sharp claws digging into the links.

With a loud "ping" the chain broke and Eris stumbled forward, quickly bringing her claws in front to stop her from slamming into the wall. She turned around and smiled as her cellmate let out a muffled squeal, delighted she was able to help.

"Thhhaannkk yoouuu," Eris sang to the raven haired woman, gently taking her hands in her own. The siren's large claws easily dwarfed that of her "sister" who started to grin until the stitches painfully reminded her that was not possible. Instead, she nodded her head.

Eris frowned. That simply wouldn't do.

The gray goddess ran the tip of her claw along the confining stitches, cutting right through them.

The woman's jaw fell open surprisingly wide, but only for a moment as she regained control of her muscles. She twisted and flexed her jaw and cheeks, it still felt odd being able to open her mouth after so long.

"Betterrrr?" Eris asked as her cellmate began pulling the errant threads out of her lips. She didn't know if her new friend could understand her or not, but it was worth a try.

The non-muted infected did not speak, but she broke into an impossibly wide smile, her grin reaching almost to her ears and exposing her entire set of teeth. To anyone else it would've looked very unsettling, but Eris smiled back, not bothered in the slightest.

Clang!

The two startled women turned towards the plexiglass. The hunter across from them began to growl, pacing back and forth again in his cell like a caged lion. The sound of human voices reached them from the other end of the hall.

"Yeah, down there. Last cell on the right," a gruff sounding voice said.

They were coming for her.

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* * *

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A/N: Aside from this chapter itself, what did you think of my transitions? Were they clever, or just confusing? Please review and let me know. :-)


	14. The Color Rage

_**Legal Disclaimer: All characters are property of Valve except for Eris, Tyre, Lenhart, Malory, Alexis, Dr. Allan and Siren concept character. Also the main zombie apocalypse plot is theirs, but Double Feature's subplot is mine.**_

_Mature Content Warning: Story contains violence, naughty language, and naughtier characters. Read if you are of legal age to vote. Do not read otherwise on penalty of rectal bleeding. Valve and I are not responsible for said rectal bleeding should you refuse to heed this warning, blah, blah, blah, fucking blah._

Authors Notes: Here we are in 2011. Feel any different? Me neither. :-) Anywho, thanks again to everyone who's reviewed my story and I thank you all for your patience. Oh, for those who like my naughty parts (in the story, not my personal naughty parts), I rewrote a small part of chapter 9 (a certain sexy part between Bill and Eris), because quite frankly I felt I could have done better. If you're more about the plot, you won't be missing anything. If you enjoy the raunchy writing, you may enjoy re-reading that portion of chapter 9. ;-)

As usual, anonymous reviews are enabled, and of course all reviews (short of jealous flames, empty threats, or trolls) are welcome. Onto chappy 14.

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Chapter 14 – The Color Rage

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..

"Geez! Not so rough!"

"Shut up," a gruff voice barked.

Zoey hissed, her wrists twisted behind her back by the muscled sergeant. Her face was nearly pressed against the elevator door as the cramped metal box made its slow descent into the bowels of this base. She squirmed in his grasp, until the muzzle of a pistol jabbed her in the back.

"Knock it off," warned a female soldier.

"Fuck you," the college girl spat, though she'd stopped struggling with the cold metal pushed into her spine.

The elevator shuddered once then came to a stop, the doors dragging open to reveal one long hallway. The basement sub level was almost like an underground cavern. The walls, ceiling, and floors were made of cement. LED lined wires, stapled into the concrete, provided lighting. The elevator security camera focused on the trio as they exited and hurried down the hall.

"You think they bought it?" Lenhart whispered, her side arm returned to her holster.

"We'll find out in a few seconds," Malory replied faintly as they hurried down the hall. "Nice acting, Zoey," he whispered to the college girl who still appeared restrained in front of him.

"Wasn't_ all _acting," Zoey said low and annoyed as she flexed her wrists. The sergeant whispered an apology and loosened his grip. The college girl grumbled, not caring much for either soldier at the moment but playing along. With all the security cameras around, it was imperative she seem like an unwilling, but controlled, captive.

The trio approached a security checkpoint; a small windowed area with a computer terminal and a rather bored-looking guard sitting within. The checkpoint was at the apex where the hallway split into two paths. The guard looked up casually at the sound of approaching footsteps.

"Name?" The guard asked in a drone.

"Sergeant Malory," Xavier replied. "We have a prisoner scheduled for testing by-"

The guard cut him off, "The only subjects scheduled for testing are a captured S.I. and a group of four individuals, but only three were brought down." The guard eyed the restrained girl. "Is she a part of that group? Why wasn't she with them?" He asked, one eyebrow arched.

Xavier chuckled and twisted Zoey's wrists, not hard, but enough. "She tried to escape, apparently she wasn't quite as unconscious as her friends," he said. Zoey winced and grumbled, staring at the floor.

The guards eyes lingered on the petite, but no less cute, college girl for a moment. Zoey stared back as though challenging him, but suddenly felt her throat tighten up. The man's eyes were glowing! It was faint, but she could see a slight red in his iris, like embers compared to the fire that seemed to burn in the eyes of the special infected.

After a couple seconds of awkward silence, the guard shrugged his shoulders. "The cells are to your right, but..." he stopped as the soldiers were about to hurry with their prisoner down the hall.

"But..." Malory said.

"But... Dr. Tyre has the three human prisoners in the lab, which is down _that _hallway, past the S.I. holding area." The guard finished, nodding over his shoulder to the left hallway.

"Thanks," Lenhart said casually.

"They can smell fear you know." The guard said, leaning forward to eye the private.

"Excuse me?" Lenhart said.

"The S.I. They can smell fear..." he said almost coyly as he turned towards the pink-hooded college girl. "You'll be passing through the S.I. holding area to get to the lab, and I suggest that you 'unknot' whatever has your panties in a bunch," he said to the prisoner. "The S.I. don't need a reason to _try _and break through that plexiglass. There's two security doors that seal the holding cells. Since you don't have access," he said, turning his attention to the sergeant, "I'll open the security doors for you, but they will only stay open for thirty seconds, so don't stop for sightseeing."

"I didn't know there was anything worth seeing," Lenhart mumbled.

The guard shrugged again. "Last cell on the right has one in a straight jacket and her lips are sewn shut," he said casually, as though discussing the weather. The college girl grimaced at the thought and the guard smiled a little, pleased with himself. "It's also where they stuffed that witch, since we're out of room on this floor." Zoey's head perked up a little and Lenhart's eyes widened.

"Understood," Malory said curtly, hoping the guard didn't notice their reactions.

"Sergeant," the guard called after Malory one more time. "After thirty seconds, the doors will remain locked for about five minutes. That should be enough time for you to 'prepare' your captive for Dr. Tyre," the guard said with more than a hint of cruel amusement. " After that, the two doors will open for another 30 seconds for you and your squad member to pass back through."

"Understood," the sergeant said. "We'll be quick." With a grunt, he pushed his charge down the left hallway towards a security door with a keypad. The door beeped as the heavy lock fell open.

The door slid aside, bombarding the three of them with a vile stench. The air reeked of shit and vomit, with a light coppery undertone of blood. Zoey crinkled her nose in disgust, while Lenhart gagged and Malory simply kept a stone face. The initial "aroma shock" had passed, bringing forward the dismal atmosphere of these holding cells , one that was perfectly complimented by the grunts and growls coming from within.

"That guard," Lenhart whispered, half gasping on the rancid air. "Did you see?"

"His eyes?" Zoey whispered back, the growls in the room growing louder.

"They were kinda red," Malory mumbled, having drawn his pistol just in case.

"Where'd he say that witch was?" Zoey asked a little louder. "Near the end?"

"Yeah down there. Last cell on the right," Malory replied gruffly. "But we don't have any time to waste. We need to free your friends first, then we'll get Eris."

The trio hurried down the hall, Malory having since let go of Zoey's wrists. The cells' inhabitants groaned and growled as the three hurried towards the end of the cell block, but they were mostly ignored. Until...

"Zoooeeeyy!" A familiar, yet muffled voice squealed excitedly amidst the cacophony of growls and groans from the other cells..

"Eris!" Zoey cried, turning away from the door and rushing towards her friend, trapped on the other side of the plexiglass. The college girl tried the door to her cell, but of course it was locked. The gray goddess pounded on the plexiglass wall, but it was like pounding concrete.

"Don't worry, we're getting you out of here somehow," Zoey said, trying to stay optimistic.

"Zoey! Come on!" Lenhart urged, her and Malory already through the other door. "We have to get your friends first! Then we-"

A buzzer sounded and the door slammed shut, cutting her off.

"Shit!" Zoey turned and rushed the security door, trying the keypad lock but to no avail. "Access Denied" the keypad screen displayed in red.

Agitated growls emanated from the other cells, their inhabitants focusing the now alone and unarmed college girl.

Zoey swallowed hard, "This is..."

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* * *

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"...no good. Damn it!" Lenhart swore, trying the keypad on the other side. The door was computer controlled, and short of the correct code or a valid key-card, they were stuck.

Sergeant Malory holstered his pistol and scanned the lab. It was probably a quarter of the size of the holding area, which itself was huge. There was another security door on the opposite end of the room. Closer to the operating tables stood a large glass refrigerator with curious looking colored syringes. Numerous machines lined the walls, along with four angled tables that were fitted with restraints. Three of the four tables were occupied by the unconscious survivors.

"C'mon we've got to get them out of here," Xavier said, he and Heather quickly making their way around the various machines and tables.

"Wake up Louis. C'mon, wake up!" Heather said, lightly slapping the dark man's face while Xavier tried to wake Bill. They were completely knocked out. Heather eyed the numerous tubes running from the unconscious dark man and the other two survivors, most likely pumping them with a saline solution and "knock out" drugs, but one was filled with a crimson liquid, draining into a large bag for each of them.

"He's draining them," Malory said, staring at the large blood bag. "He's draining their blood. Their immune blood must have something to do with controlling the virus."

"Then lets remove these tubes first. Give them a chance to wake up," Heather said. "If we remove the restraints first, they'll fall right off these tables."

Xavier nodded, working the needles out of Bill's arms while Heather tended to Louis. The two soldiers moved to Francis next, carefully removing the tubes from his arms too.

The soldiers looked at the restraints next; metal cuffs that snapped into place and locked with round, peg-style cotter pins.

"We can at least unlock them without removing them," Malory said, starting on Bill's ankles. The two began unlocking the metal restraints with some difficulty. The oversized cotter pins were a tight fit in the cuff holes, so more than a little effort was necessary to remove them.

"Now what?" Heather asked, dropping the cotter pins on the floor. "We need to get Zoey, but we can't just go back the way we came."

""We were just 'dropping off' another prisoner, the guard said the door would open in about five minutes," Xavier said, staring at the three unconscious survivors. Thankfully they didn't look very pale and the blood bags weren't even a quarter full, so perhaps not all that much blood had been drained from them yet.

"I don't have a means to contact that guard through my radio," the sergeant said before suddenly looking grim. "Then again, if he happens to look at the security cameras..."

Heather nodded grimly. The little auburn-haired firebrand had certainly thrown a monkey wrench into the situation. The plan was to slip in with their "prisoner," then leave her and Malory in the lab to handle her friends. Lenhart would run back to the guard alone, claiming the prisoner had managed to escape and was holding the sergeant hostage. Before the guard could call for reinforcements, Lenhart would "subdue" him and unlock the doors. From there they would have just enough time to escape before anyone noticed they were gone. Of course, this didn't account for Dr. Tyre. No one knew where he was, or when he'd show up.

It wasn't a great plan, but it was still a damn sight better than their current circumstances. With Zoey stuck in the holding area, the guard would surely know something was up if he happened to glance at those cameras. He seemed rather bored at that checkpoint, paying attention to little of anything, but it would only take one second for him to notice a prisoner without an escort.

"Dr. Allan, this is Malory. We're stuck in the testing area on sub level 3, is there any way to open these security doors? Over." the sergeant said into his com-link.

"Xavier," Alexis answered back in a hush. "Tyre called Dr. Allan into his office a few minutes ago to speak with him about the status of the survivors, and if they've been prepped for him." There was a slight pause before her voice got noticeably shaky. "I know Dr. Allan, he's a terrible liar. Tyre's certain to know something's up if he hears that one of the four survivors tried to escape. He's likely heading down to that lab right now. You've got to hurry!"

"I'd love to," Malory answered, "but we're kinda stuck. Both these doors are locked with electronic locks and I don't have access, over."

"What about the other door?" Heather asked, walking towards the other end of the lab. After a few frustrating moments of punching numbers on the keypad, it was clear this door was secured as well. "Nope." She sighed, instead checking out the specimen refrigerator.

The sergeant froze as he remembered his conversation with Dr. Allan. The doctor wanted to know what Tyre was up to, so any information he gathered would be helpful. That specimen refrigerator seemed to call out to him.

"Xaiver. I'm worried," Alexis said, sounding every bit as nervous as a person waiting on potentially bad news.

"Don't worry about Dr. Allan, he'll be okay. Just keep us updated on Tyre. Malory out." He finished, closing the channel.

Malory joined Lenhart by the other door, the glass refrigerator having caught his attention. Peering inside, his eyes went wide as dinner plates.

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* * *

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Eris took a step back as Zoey pounded her fist on the transparent viewing wall; it didn't even wobble. The auburn-haired girl sighed dejectedly, there was no way brute force was going to break that reinforced plexiglass. It looked as thick as the glass for shark tanks at the aquarium. Eris was so close, yet so far.

"Damn it!" Zoey swore, pounding the glass once more out of frustration. Eris whimpered at Zoey's aggravated face.

"It's oka-" Zoey started, but Eris was suddenly bumped aside. The auburn-haired girl jumped back as another shapely-figured creature stood right in front of the plexiglass, staring the college girl down as though defending her gray-skinned cell mate. A bandage-covered bulge on her neck seemed to pulsate like a beating heart. She had black hair, black eyes, and an incredibly wide mouth, the corners turned down in an exaggerated frown.

"_'Wide-mouth' doesn't look friendly,"_ Zoey thought to herself. The infected woman's bandage-covered throat began to swell up. Her chest puffed as though she were taking a deep breath.

Eris noticed her cell mate's protective stance, perhaps the former mute thought that Zoey was threatening her with her frustrated aggression.

"Zooeey frriiieeend," Eris said, but her words were unheeded. The black-eyed woman attention was completely focused on the non-infected person outside their cell. She remembered the guards and scientists who routinely poked and prodded her, restricting her for weeks in that straight-jacket then laughing at her as she wailed muffled through her stitched lips. Now this human was upsetting her new friend.

Zoey's eyes went wide, remembering the video Dr. Tyre had shown them all of the S.I. "Wide-mouth" looked just like that SCR type...

"Wide-mouth" clenched her fists at her sides, unhinged her jaw like an anaconda, and unleashed a high pitched howl that would've made Cerberus himself whine.

Even through the plexiglass, the scream was so loud and shrill it sent Zoey staggering back, her vision blurring from the intense sound wave. The college girl screamed and covered her ears. It was like a thousand nails dragging over a thousand chalkboards, yet a thousand times louder than that. The plexiglass vibrated, erratic hairline cracks slowly forming in the center, then shooting toward the edges like lightning.

Eris staggered back as well, her ears ringing with pain. She suddenly felt a burning rage explode within her that she hadn't felt for a long time. It roared in her mind, louder than the shrill shriek her cellmate continued to emit.

"_**Kill!"**_

The gray goddess felt a sudden, immense _hatred _towards the stunned survivor, who'd backed into the opposite cell. The hunter within shrieked and attacked the now cracking plexiglass of his cell, slashing and pounding it repeatedly. It wobbled slightly, but it still would not give. Zoey had fallen forward, curling in the fetal position and clutching her ear. The hunter howled angrily, still slashing at the reinforced barrier, drawing blood from his claws with his relentless attack.

Eris saw the other infected attacking the now weakened and cracking plexiglass wall in their cells with a single-minded fury, trying to answer this "call to battle."

"_**Kill her!"**_

Eris shrieked and rushed the plexiglass, attempting to stab through it with her razor claws. Even weakened, the barrier held, and Eris stumbled back as her blow was deflected, her hand throbbing and her vision blurred from the vibration. She shook her head and focused again on the stunned survivor just beyond her reach. _She_ caused this. Killing her would make it stop, would make the pain stop.

"Aaaaaagghhh!" Zoey screamed as tears ran from her eyes, the pain excruciating. Though blurred vision she watched the gray goddess lose herself to violent insanity as she relentlessly attacked the plexiglass that kept her from butchering the incapacitated survivor.. Eris' amber eyes burned like hot coals, and Zoey swore she'd be set ablaze by them.

Zoey's eyes went wide, a sudden image from her nightmare flashing through her mind of the horrifying sight in the town of Rayford. Eris, corrupted and misshapen, was crying over Bill's corpse until Zoey had disturbed her. The twisted form of her gray friend had attacked her like a real witch, knocking her down and attempting to shake and squeeze the very life from her in a blind fury.

Eris attacked the glass again, this time kicking with her foot. The clear barrier shuddered, more cracks running from the point of impact. The screamer had run out of breath and was panting, though still no less focused on the helpless survivor. Eris could still hear the ringing in her ears, along with the viral voices that babbled and cackled with a purposeful lunacy, egging her on.

"_**Kill her! Kill! Kill! KILL!"**_

Eris shrieked and kicked the glass again, larger cracks forming and arcing towards the small breather holes near the top.

"Eris! Please! Help me!" The downed survivor yelled. Her head was swimming from the pain and she feared she might lose consciousness.

The gray goddess halted at Zoey's cry, the remnants of her humanity resisting the rage-induced viral voice in her head. The two voices fought for control in her conscious thought while the screamer drew in another breath.

"_**Kill!" **_

_"Kill Zoey?" _

"_**Kill Zoey!"**_

"_Zoey friend..." _

_** "Kill Friend!"**_

"_Zoey hurt!" _

"_**Kill!" **_

"_No!"_

_** "Kill!"**_

_ "Save her!"_

_** "Kill!"**_

_"Help her!"_

_** "Kill!"**_

_"NO!"_

"_Zoey survivor!"_

"_**Kill survivor! Kill Zoey!"**_

"_Save survivor! SAVE ZOEY!"_

The screamer's jaw opened wide as she belted out another piercing scream.

"Noooo!" Eris shrieked, covering her ears with her claws and cowering in pain. Fresh tears ran from her clenched eyes, but she would not relent to the viral voice.

"Aaaaggh!" Zoey cried, squeezing her head so hard she could see spots form in the blackness of her clenched eyes.

The amber-eyed beauty grit her teeth, focusing her rage on the screamer instead. One swipe would finish this, would end Zoey's suffering, would end _her _suffering, even the other S.I. in their cells would finally be free of this maddening rage. The viral voice urged her on, focusing on the new target.

"_**Kill screamer!"**_

But once again, Eris' humanity fought against the mindless rage.

"_Screamer friend."_

Eris stared at the raven-haired woman who was out of control as she projected her cries towards the helpless survivor outside. The gray goddess realized her cell mate was likely acting on her own viral-twisted instinct, just like she herself had the night she escaped. The night she screamed at the hunters, driving them all into a frenzied blood lust as they butchered each other.

A blood lust she herself had nearly been consumed by. A blood lust that would've taken her both her humanity and Zoey's life.

Eris shook her head, disgusted with herself. She'd... she'd actually tried to _kill_ Zoey. _Her Zoey. A_nd she was just about to kill her new friend instead. _She'd_ caused those hunters to murder each other because she was weak-minded, because she couldn't fight the urge. She gave into her "instinct" and drove three other living beings to madness because they too were just as weak; because they too gave in to "instinct."

But she wasn't a mindless animal. She wasn't a soulless killer.

She was a survivor, and she was stronger for it. Her humanity, her compassion, her love for her friends, all of it was stronger than this virus. Never again would she kill simply out of rage or "instinct."

Taking a deep breath,Eris screamed at the top of her lungs.

.

* * *

.

"Xavier, look at this!" Heather said. The sergeant peered through the glass door, reading the labels on the various syringes.

"Holy hell! He's got it all here! Every S.I. we've encountered, right here in these vials!" Malory said.

"Worse yet, he's got some new ones too," Lenhart said, noting those which were handwritten. Her heart rose in her throat as she read the labels.

"S-TNK. A... a super tank?" She stammered, neither of them noticing the hissing sound of the door opening. "As if an ordinary tank wasn't- URK!"

Malory spun around, seeing his love yanked right off her feet like a rag doll. One massive arm had curled around her neck, the other arm's beefy hand resting on her head.

"Not quite powerful enough in my opinion," Tyre growled, finishing Lenhart's sentence. The door behind him hissed and slammed shut. Malory reflexively shrugged the rifle off his shoulder and caught it in his hands, about to bring it to bear.

"I'll snap her neck like a dry twig," the towering man growled, placing more pressure on the soldier in his arms. Lenhart gasped and struggled, her face turning red. "Drop your weapon!"

Malory attempted to stare him down, but those red-tinged eyes were deadly serious. He slowly placed his rifle on the floor and pushed it away with his foot.

Tyre laughed heartily. "You disappoint me, Sergeant Malory," he said as he took his free hand from Lenhart's head and reached for her thigh, removing her side arm and tossing it away. "Foolishly assuming Dr. Allan could hide _anything _from me. Did you really think I would believe one of my four immune guinea pigs would have 'escaped' after being drugged with enough tranquilizer to bring down a horse?"

Malory said nothing, only keeping eye contact with his love who was visibly frightened. Tyre really could snap her neck with one twist of his wrist, and they all knew it.

"You're so shortsighted. You might have thought your plan out more thoroughly if you hadn't been so busy screwing your little friend here every chance you got." Tyre chuckled, mussing his captive's hair. "Personally, I'm surprised you didn't go for R.N. Stevens and those melons of hers." Tyre said with a devilish grin.

"Fucking pig," Heather growled, struggling some more but still getting nowhere. Dr. Tyre simply flexed his bicep, squeezing the private's neck even harder. She choked and gasped, vainly trying to pull his massive arm away as her lungs cried for oxygen. Her brown eyes widened as she was denied her breath.

"Leave her alone!" Malory roared, but Tyre laughed even harder, increasing the pressure. Malory lunged for the muscled man, knowing he'd be at a disadvantage to move with a hostage, but Tyre was surprisingly fast. He dodged the lunge and threw his shoulder into the sergeant's back, sending him sprawling over a small metal table lined with various instruments. With a loud crash and a moment or two of groaning, Malory turned over and found himself on the floor staring up at the huge tyrant, Lenhart's body laying at his feet.

"Rrrgh... you son of a bitch!" Malory said, picking himself up.

"Be rational, sergeant," Tyre said with a smirk, watching the Malory's knuckles turn white. "Wouldn't you rather fight me on equal footing?"

"I could care less about _fighting_ you," Malory spat, still staring at his lover crumpled on the floor. Heather's chest rose and fell steadily. She was still alive. "I just want to stomp your fat head into the ground."

Tyre laughed again, louder this time. "Such anger. You're the perfect candidate to become one of the first new super soldier S.I.'s."

Malory's eyes widened, he couldn't believe this quack of a doctor was actually _offering _to turn him into one of these twisted lab experiments, as if it were some incredible gift or great honor.

"Think about it." Tyre said, unabated, "Muscles that would rival a Tank, reflexes sharpened and faster than any Hunter alive, eyesight even more keen than a Smoker, dexterous fingers with claws so sharp even a Witch would be jealous. All of it in one ass-kicking package. You could take on a whole squad of soldiers with power like that."

Xavier stared him in the eyes trying to read him, that faint tinge of red still swirling around in the doctor's irises. There was no doubt Tyre had fallen off the deep end, but the fact that he was trying to negotiate when he clearly had the upper hand...

"Why are you making me an offer to be one of your damn guinea pigs?" Malory asked, stepping backwards a little, hoping to draw the mad doctor forward.

"It's a bit more than that," Tyre said, casually stepping over Lenhart's unconscious form. "Despite being a little naive, you're a true leader and an excellent soldier, one of the best the U.S military ever turned out. You would be the perfect prototype for the super soldier."

Malory thought he saw his lover stirring on the floor behind Tyre, but it was the survivors, fully awake and fully aware, trying to be quiet.

"Go on..." Malory said, quickly staring the general in the eyes.

"You would love to rid the country of this infection wouldn't you?" Tyre asked, grinning inwardly at the thought of such a ludicrous notion. "And with the combined powers of the special infected, you and those who follow you could easily destroy every last MR-1 zombie out there. Think of that. No resorting to incendiary bombs or worse, nuclear warheads, to rid the country of this plague. My new super-soldiers could cleanse the entire country of these inferior MR-1 specimens."

"But why stop there?" Malory asked, with a hint of sarcasm, trying to buy some time. The war veteran was nowhere in plain sight, and the other two survivors were starting to wake.

"Exactly." Tyre said, stepping closer. "The human race is just as inferior as the common MR-1 zombie, in fact more so! The MR-1 commons fight each other over short-sighed rage with no real drive, but humans are even worse. _They_ fight over who's ideologies are the right ones to live by under the guise of religion, or to satisfy the insatiable desires of power and greed by building nuclear arms and trying to wrestle control of another country's natural resources. And the worst part? They raise their children to do the exact same thing, continuing this destructive cycle. Soon there won't even be a world for the future generation of humanity to inherit."

Malory eyed the deranged doctor, acting interested. The nut job was on a roll and best to let him ride it out, so long as the sergeant could keep him distracted. From behind the huge doctor, the red-tied systems analyst had already stealthily released his restraints and was working on the biker's.

"Wouldn't it be a boon to the planet to wipe out such ridiculous notions of self-appointed grandeur and destructive avarice?" Tyre asked. "MR-1 is the key to a global change."

"Only by turning everyone still alive into mindless slaves who aren't human anymore," Malory retorted. "And let me guess as to who would be the 'master' to those 'slaves'?"

Tyre simply laughed again, "And what difference does it make? The whole world would become unified only because there would no longer be humans. Humans' instinctual selfish and destructive tendencies are what have caused all the problems the world faces today. Ironic that it's those very 'instincts' that drive MR-1. The world is about to change, whether the rest of humanity realizes it or not." Tyre said, about to look over his shoulder at the four captive survivors.

"Over my dead body!" Xavier roared and lunged for the general, a fast yet desperate method to distract him. Tyre threw his left shoulder forward, catching the sergeant in the chest and effectively knocking the wind out of him.

"Did I mention you disappoint me?" Tyre sighed, casually walking up to the gasping sergeant. Before he had a chance to react, Tyre picked him up by his throat and held him in the air with one meaty hand. Malory choked, his face turning red as those massive fingers squeezed his windpipe.

"That was a rhetorical question," Tyre said with a smirk as he squeezed harder, watching the sergeant's face turn purple. Malory saw the red tinge in Tyre's eyes light up, as though the virus was feeding on his aggression. "Such a shame really. Had you taken my rather generous offer, you would become one of the first beings of a new age, making history." Tyre grinned as Malory's kicking and struggling grew frantic. "Its a shame your little girlfriend is still unconscious," Tyre said. "You won't even get to say 'goodbye.'"

Tyre was just about to squeeze the last breath from the sergeant, until a loud crash caused him to turn around.

.

* * *

.

"**Ssssttooooooppp!"**

The screamer's cry fell silent and she turned to her new friend, seeing the commanding yet pleading look in her amber eyes. The raven-haired woman shifted her gaze to the survivor on the floor, then back to her gray-skinned companion's tear-streaked cheeks.

Within that instant of silence, the last hairline cracks made their way to the edges of the clear barrier. With a deafening "crash", the plexiglass barrier finally shattered, an explosion of shards raining down around the two infected women.

The screamer's lips trembled as she and the siren stared at each other, bits of the clear barrier still raining down on them and scattering on the concrete floor. Apparently the concept of "guilt" was still within the raven-haired woman's grasp. Realizing what she'd done, the screamer buried her face in her hands and began sobbing.

Eris shakily walked to her cell mate's side, gently running the back of her clawed hand against her arm in a soothing fashion, coaxing her to stop crying. "Frrrieeennd..." she sang, staring the screamer right in the black voids that were her eyes. The screamer understood now that the human on the floor wasn't like the soldiers in this base. The other special infected stared blankly from the cells, as though they'd just snapped out of a trance. The viral rage that had clouded their minds was gone.

"Zooeeyyy frrriieend," Eris said, gently turning the screamer's face towards the survivor.

But Zoey lay still.

"Zoooeeyy?" The gray goddess whispered, her eyes growing wide with horror.

Eris rushed to her side, paying no mind to the sharp shards of plexiglass scattered about. They were no more than pebbles to her armored skin. She quickly knelt beside the college girl and touched her face. A shiver passed through the gray goddess; her friend's skin was cold and clammy to the touch.

Eris' heart raced as panic began to consume her. She ran her claws under the petite girl's back, sitting her up, but Zoey's head lulled lifelessly aside her shoulder, a thin, dried trickle of blood running from one ear.

"Zoooeeyy! Waaake uup!" The gray goddess wailed in fear, cradling her lifeless friend. "Noooo! Zooeeeyy!" She cried, squeezing the auburn-haired girl to her bosom. One moment she wanted to kill her friend, and now she was dead in her arms and she'd give anything to bring her back. The screamer slowly approached the grief-stricken woman on the floor, who began lightly shaking her friend by the shoulders.

"Pllleaaseee waaake uup!" Eris was nearly bawling now, shaking her friend by the shoulders. The thought of losing Zoey was more than her heart could bear. She continued to shake her, a little more forcefully, unaware of what was happening in the girl's sub-conscious.

_Bill was slumped over in front of the generator, and in his lap was the sobbing form of a witch._

_"Eris!" Zoey cried, stopping a few feet away. The college girl's breath caught in her throat; the creature before her looked nothing like the gray goddess she remembered._

_The witch turned in surprise, a gasp escaping her lips before her low growls of warning started. Zoey froze. The frightening creature before her rose to her feet, howling angrily as fresh tears ran down her face._

_"Eris?" Zoey whispered as she backed away in fear. The gray griever gave no sign that she knew the stunned survivor, or that she even cared._

_With a shriek of rage, she charged the helpless college girl._

_Zoey screamed in terror as the witch lunged and landed on her, knocking her down. Rather than digging her claws into the helpless survivor, she instead wrapped her large hands around Zoey's neck, squeezing and shaking her in a blind rage.  
__  
Zoey squeaked as her air supply was constricted. The witch howled and increased the pressure. The college girl's vision grew spotty and her head felt like it would be ripped from her shoulders._

_"Nooo… please… no no no noooooooo!" Zoey cried weakly as everything faded to black._

"Nn.. nooo," the college girl mumbled, her eyes fluttering as she tried to escape her nightmare prison. "_Shaking... my neck... what the?" _ Her eyes shot open in horror to find Eris squeezing and shaking her!

"Aaah!" Zoey cried, struggling in her grasp. Eris gasped and let go as the college girl quickly scrambled backwards on her hands and feet away from the infected pair, the remnants of her past nightmare and the memory of Eris' insane attack burned in her head.

"Zooeey?" Eris squeaked, tears forming in her eyes as she rose to her feet. The college girl backed away further and stared at her like a frightened rabbit, her chest heaving beneath her pink hoodie.

"Aaaheeeyyyye... sooorryyy," Eris sobbed, recalling how only moments earlier she was trying to butcher her petite "sister." It was no wonder Zoey was terrified. She'd never trust her again.

Zoey stared at the bawling siren, trying desperately to shake the image of her enraged attack from her mind, which seemed to perfectly match the "witch" from her nightmare. For a moment she thought that nightmare had become a twisted form of reality. The thought of losing Bill to the cold grasp of death was terrible, but losing her gray-skinned friend to the viral insanity was even worse. She eyed her friend with apprehension, sizing her up. Eris was distraught, and although Zoey was still more than a little wary given what had just happened, deep down she knew the gray goddess cared for her.

"I think... I pissed myself," Zoey half-laughed, trying to chase away the fear with humor. She groped herself between the legs to check. False alarm thankfully, but had that screamer's ungodly cry gone on any longer, she swore she would've soaked her jeans as sure as she thought her brains were going to leak out of her ears. Her legs were shaking, though whether that was because of her fear or the screamer's painful attack she couldn't be certain. She took one step and promptly lost her balance, falling to her knees.

"Zooeeyy!" Eris cried, rushing to her side, the screamer only a pace or two behind.

"I'm... alright... Eris," Zoey gasped. She attempted to stand again on wobbly knees, the gray beauty helping her to her feet. "Everything's alright..." she sighed, looking her friend in her amber eyes.

"Prrommissee?" Eris asked, a weak smile on her crimson-painted lips.

"Yes. I promise." Zoey said reassuringly, gently stroking the siren's platinum white hair.

The gray goddess pulled the college girl into a long hug, whispering her melodious sounding apology over and over before finally ending it with a kiss on the cheek. The raven-haired woman watched the display of affection with interest, until she noticed the blue-eyed girl glaring angrily at her. The screamer shrank back, whimpering at the scowl on the human's face as she approached her. "You're lucky I don't have my sword..." Zoey started.

This time Eris bumped the screamer aside and stared Zoey down with a look of distaste.

"Frriieend," she admonished the college girl, pointing to the cowering infected.

Zoey sighed, "Alright alright. Friend. Sorry." Never mind her "friend" nearly killed her. Zoey sized the raven-haired woman up. Standing, she was almost as tall as Eris. She had a slender, shapely figure, but not as curvaceous as the gray goddess. Those vacant-looking black eyes studied the survivor for a moment, this time more out of curiosity than apprehension.

"C'mon, we have to get out of here," Zoey said, as the trio approached the security door. The college girl tried the panel again, with the same results. Eris growled and punched the reinforced door, the solid metal not even vibrating. The gray woman hissed in pain, even with her strengthened bone, punching solid steel hurt quite a bit. An ordinary person would have broken their knuckles.

"Sorry Eris, but that's not going to-" Zoey started, before the sound of the door at the other end of the cell block hissed open.

"Freeze!"

The women spun around to see three red-eyed soldiers no more than twelve feet away, pointing their weapons at them. The soldiers were equally surprised to find a human among the two S.I.'s.

The raven-haired screamer's eyes narrowed at the trio of soldiers. Eris growled low, but Zoey spoke up before it could get worse.

"You can't shoot," Zoey said with a smirk. "Otherwise you risk killing me or Eris, and you know how valuable our blood is to Dr. Tyre."

"You're right," the lead soldier said, lowering his weapon as a familiarly cruel smile drew across his face. Zoey recognized him as the guard from the security terminal. He pulled a small electronic device from his pocket and causally pushed the red button before tucking it away again.

Eris and the other S.I. in their cells screamed as the high pitched whine assaulted their ears. Zoey didn't hear anything, but it was clear whatever was happening was causing her friend immense pain as she fell to her knees, squeezing her head.

"Stop it!" The college girl yelled, her eyes like daggers into the three soldiers who started to make their way towards the group. She turned her eyes to the screamer, expecting to see her screeching in pain as well.

However, the screamer was still standing, and she looked _very _angry.

"Sir!" A second soldier said, "That one with the black hair isn't affected!"

The soldiers didn't know it, but the screamer was the only S.I. restrained because her unique abilities rendered her immune to any and all forms of unpleasant noise.

A third soldier clicked the safety off his pistol, but a moment too late. The onyx-eyed woman screamed, projecting her deafening cry towards the now stunned and disoriented soldiers. Zoey was quick to cover her ears and huddle on the floor with Eris behind the screamer, the three red-eyed soldiers not so lucky as they staggered back.

In a collective explosion, the remaining damaged plexiglass walls shattered from the screamer's battle cry. Her sonic attack apparently overpowered the small electronic device the soldier used, because in the next instant the other three S.I. charged from their cells. The lead soldier fired his M16 an instant too late as the hunter pounced, his shots flying randomly. The duct-taped creature was quick to crush the device in the soldier's pocket before promptly tearing into his Kevlar jacket, throwing pieces of it everywhere as he dug for the man's guts. The smoker snagged a soldier with his tongue, dragging him into a green fog that obscured the massacre. The boomer simply charged in and slapped at the third soldier with his massive hand, knocking him down. The soldier felt his ribcage crushed as the bloated infected sat right on his chest and began beating him mercilessly, gurgling and groaning as bursts of green vomit dribbled down his chin.

Zoey watched in morbid fascination as the prisoners took revenge on their captors. The screamer's cry had abruptly stopped, but the other S.I did not cease their rage-induced attack; no doubt those soldiers had this coming for a while. Zoey saw a section of one soldier's jacket get tossed in her direction, an errant plastic corner poking out. She ripped open the Velcro pocket, finding the soldier's key-card. Of all the luck!

"We can use this to get out of here!" She said, scrambling to her feet. "C'mon Eris! Let's..."

But Eris didn't answer, she was sobbing quietly as she knelt over the screamer, who'd been laid out flat on her back. The first soldier's bullets missed their intended mark, finding the screamer's stomach instead, a pool of her crimson life's essence rapidly growing beneath her.

Eris was in a panic, but the dying infected brought her clawed hand to the siren's face, calmingly stroking her cheek. Her vacant black eyes were filled with a mixture of remorse and gratitude as she slowly slipped into the darkness.

"Frriieennd," the screamer choked out in a weak voice, before the hand of death stole her final breath and closed her black eyes for the last time.

Eris muttered angrily, blinking away her tears as she turned to watch the massacre only a few yards away. The three S.I. needed no help in killing the guards, but the gray griever was more than willing to join the fray. She bared her teeth and flickered her claws, the sharp blades sounding like swords as they rubbed against each other. Though she'd seen enough death to last her a lifetime, she could handle a little more...

"No," Zoey said softly, touching her shoulder.

The gray woman turned to her, angry and wanting revenge.

"Please Eris," Zoey said. "It's not fair, I know. But you killing those soldiers won't bring her back. Don't be like _them_," she gestured to the other S.I. who were lost in a frenzy of madness. "None of us, especially Bill, could bear the pain of losing a fellow _survivor_."

The siren stared into her friend's azure eyes, the same ones that earlier were filled with fear and mistrust when she'd nearly lost herself to her rage. Her face softened; trying to butcher the soldiers would be no different than when she'd tried to kill Zoey.

"C'mon," Zoey said. "Bill, Louis, and Francis need us."

The siren nodded, and the two survivors quickly unlocked the door to the lab.

.

* * *

.

The sound of shattering glass from beyond the security door caught Tyre's attention, followed by the deafening noise of the security alarms. He looked over his shoulder...

"Aaaarrrgggh!" Bill yelled jumping on the general's back and digging his aged fingers into Tyre's eyes. The general roared and let go of Malory, who was coughing and gasping as he sucked air yet again. Francis and Louis quickly grabbed the doctor's ankles, hanging on the way a kid tries to latch on to his mother's leg. Tyre kicked with one leg, sending Francis flying into another table with lab equipment. Louis grabbed an unbroken beaker that had fallen to the floor and smashed it against the mad doctor's foot. It did little against his steel-toed boots, but the jagged edges that Louis shoved into the doctor's leg earned a roar of pain. Tyre kicked Louis into another nearby table, knocking the wind out of the dark man and loosening his grip.

Bill had managed to keep his death grip on the doctor's back, still squeezing at his head and pressing into Tyre's eyes, until the burly general fell back against a wall. Once he realized this, he slammed himself into it repeatedly, doing hell to the war veteran's aged back. With a final grunt, Bill fell from Tyre's shoulders. The doctor rubbed his eyes, trying to shake away the spots. Bill groaned as he got up, but was met with a swift kick to the stomach, knocking him back down.

"You worthless pile of sawdust!" Tyre growled, bringing his foot high to send his heel crashing down on the war vet's skull. Bill quickly twisted his body to dodge the skull-crushing blow, but it never came. Sgt. Malory leaped from an overturned table and sent a hard kick into the mad man's chest. Tyre grunted and staggered back, nearly knocking over the specimen refrigerator. The enraged sergeant threw two left jabs to Tyre's face and followed with a hard right hook, turning his head sideways.

Tyre simply turned his head back with a grin. That was Malory's best shot, and it didn't even faze him.

"Pathetic," he laughed, slugging the stunned sergeant hard in the gut, causing him to double over. Tyre brought both hands together over his head and delivered a hammer blow to Xavier's back, dropping him like a rock. Xavier groaned and twitched as he tried to roll over.

"A pity." Tyre said, taking a quick look around the room. The other three survivors were still down due to their weakened state from their blood being drained, but the little piss ant at his feet would need to be dealt with now. He growled, raising his boot again. Xavier saw the massive heel about to slam right down on his face.

BLAM!

Tyre howled in pain and Xavier saw blood coming from the man's foot. Heather held her smoking pistol with a shaky hand, trying to cock the hammer back for another round. She'd managed to crawl over to her gun to get a clear shot at the insane general. She was obviously still somewhat disoriented; Malory doubted his love was deliberately aiming for Tyre's foot.

Heather's eyes went wide as Tyre turned on his one heel, murderous rage in his red eyes. He snatched her up off the ground like a ten pound bag of flour, squeezing her throat and half-dragging her as he backed towards the security door, wrestling the gun from her hands and holding it against her temple.

Malory looked around for something he could throw, but there was nothing that would stop Tyre from blowing Lenhart's head off the moment he brought his arm back. He saw the three survivors were finally back on their feet, but they were in no condition to take on the massive doctor. Bill was still rubbing his forehead as though trying to shake away the stars, while Francis and Louis were focused on Tyre with frustrated glares.

This had gone from bad to worse.

"Unless you want her brains splattered against the wall, you'll-"

Heather screamed as a very sharp bloody protrusion shot from the man's body, missing her neck by less than an inch. Tyre's grunted, looking down at the bloody claw wriggling from his chest. Heather broke his grip around her, and she was fast to push away from the stunned doctor, flying right into Xavier's arms.

"What the?" Tyre whispered as the gun fell from his hand. The protrusion withdrew, and the doctor fell to his knees.

"Son of a bitch," Zoey muttered as the security door slid shut behind them. Eris wiped her one bloodied index finger-claw on the man's lab coat before Zoey kicked him hard in the back, sending him straight to the floor. The gray goddess stared at her tormentor for a moment, feeling a sense of closure that it was finally over. But as she raised her head, a pair of steel eyes made her forget about everything else.

"Biill!" Eris cried, rushing towards the war vet.

"Eris! Thank God you- OOF!" Before he knew it, Bill was knocked off his feet again. Numerous passionate kisses stopped him from saying anything more.

"Zoey!" Louis said, rushing to her side. The systems analyst spotted a dried trickle of blood running from her ear. "Are you okay? What happened?" He asked, holding her hands.

"Eris befriended a screamer S.I. that shared a cell with her, and she was rather... protective of Eris," Zoey said as she scratched the side of her head, flecking off the dried blood. "But that's not the worst of it," she said. Louis' face turned grim as she continued. "Her scream sent Eris and the other S.I. into a frenzy. For a moment, I thought Eris was going to try to kill me. That cell's plexiglass viewing wall barely held her back."

Louis looked over at the gray goddess who was the epitome of peace and happiness in Bill's arms. Though the dark man had seen what angry witches were capable of, Eris was _not _a witch. In fact he'd _never_ seen Eris in an angry state, short of when they arrived at this base and the soldiers were threatening them.

Zoey placed his fears to rest. "It's alright Louis. The guards came of course, and they used some kind of device that emits a high pitch sound that only the S.I can hear. It causes them incredible pain." Zoey paused, noticing everyone in the room listening to her. "The screamer wasn't affected though, and she defended us. She shattered the other plexiglass walls, and the captive S.I. escaped and took down the guards. But... a stray shot caught her... she didn't survive." Zoey sighed before continuing. "Eris took it pretty hard. She nearly lost herself to the rage again, but..." The college girl looked remorsefully towards the gray goddess, half expecting her to feel shamed, but Eris simply smiled at her.

"Suurrvvviiivvvoorr," Eris sang, pointing to herself.

"But Eris is a survivor." Zoey nodded, smiling.

Louis tenderly kissed Zoey on the forehead. "So long as you're alright."

The petite auburn-haired beauty smiled coyly. "Since when did you care so much about me?" She asked teasingly. Louis was about to call her out on the night she woke up screaming from her nightmare, but he was interrupted by the sergeant.

"So in other words, we can't get out that way?" Malory asked.

"Not unless you want to walk into a blood bath," Zoey answered. Malory shook his head. He didn't even want to think about what that area looked like after three S.I. got through with a surprised group of soldiers. Lord knew he'd seen enough of _that _in the field.

"Uh... Louis, you can let go now." Zoey chuckled, the dark man was still holding her hand. He blushed and reluctantly let go.

"How about you? Are you alright?" Xavier whispered into his lover's ear.

Heather smiled up at him. "You know it takes more than some deranged lunatic the size of a truck to take me down."

"We need to get our weapons," Francis said, snatching an M16 off the floor. "Don't like these rifles, but I guess it'll do."

"I'll take my rifle now, thanks," Malory said, quickly snatching the weapon from the biker's gloved hands and slinging it over his shoulder. "We'll get your weapons back. They're in the security locker by the south vehicle garage. That's were we've got to go anyway."

"Well what are we waiting for?" Francis asked.

Malory held up a hand in the classic "stop" gesture as he flicked on his radio.

"Dr. Allan,'David has slain Goliath,'" he said into his radio. The other survivors listened in, trying to hear the one-sided conversation. "Hey what the?" Malory started, hearing the doctor's muffled sounds of struggle on the other end. The survivors looked at the sergeant's concerned expression, which suddenly shifted to one of relief and annoyance.

Malory took a breath. "Oh, Alexis... What?... Yes, Eris is safe," he continued, rolling his eyes. Heather stifled a giggle, picturing the R.N wrestling the radio from her boss to make sure Eris was okay. "No I will NOT put her on. She's busy anyway." Malory said, frustrated. "That's none of your business!" Another pause. "Oh stop with the begging, it doesn't become you." He continued. Heather was cracking up by this point, and her laughter was contagious. Though they were in a life and death situation, they were safe for now, and the humor was more than welcome. Within moments, the rest of the group, save Eris and Bill, began laughing at Xavier and Alexis arguing.

The reunited lovers had returned their attention to each other. For the moment, nothing else existed except the two of them. Bill held his gray goddess tight, getting lost in that beautiful platinum mane of hers and kissing her soft gray neck, not out of lust but out of love and relief. Eris trembled at his touch, sighing into his shoulder. Bill couldn't help but find humor in the situation. She'd just brought down a madman bent on world domination not a minute ago, and now she was cooing in his ear as though they'd spent the whole day cuddling on the couch.

The war vet chuckled in the siren's ear, "Eris, you've gotta be the bravest, toughest, yet softest, gentlest woman I've ever known."

Eris pulled back to stare her lover's rugged, handsome face. "Wiithh Biiilll," Eris sang, getting lost in his steel colored eyes, "Errriiisss iiisss the _luuckieeestt_ woomaan toooo."

The two lovers grinned ear to ear, and promptly smashed their lips together in another passionate kiss.

"Rrrgh. Damn it Stevens!" Malory continued, using the R.N.'s last name authoritatively. "We have to get out of here! You'll see Eris soon. Meet us at the vehicle bay on the south wall of the base. And put Dr. Allan back on." Malory huffed, pausing for a moment. "Doctor? Yes I need you to create a distraction... What?" A pause. "Call an emergency meeting on Tyre's behalf, I don't know, just something so we don't have a lot of company waiting for us at that vehicle garage! Got it? Good. Malory out."

And with that, he flicked off the radio. "Ready?" He asked Heather.

"Yup," she replied pecking him on the cheek. "C'mon everyone, let's get a move on," Lenhart barked, quickly snapping everyone to attention, particularly the war vet and the siren who were almost ready for a private room. Malory shot his love a sideways smile. God she was sexy when she took charge. He didn't know what he'd ever do without her.

The group rushed to the opposite door, and using the key-card Zoey found, unlocked it and left Tyre to die with his work, face down in a small pool of his blood.

The instant the door slid shut, muffled laughter mixed with a slight cough came from beneath the stirring form of Dr. Tyre. The madman's head slowly lifted from the floor, his face bearing a toothy grin both amazingly wide and undeniably cruel.

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A/N: Mwa ha ha ha ha! :-P Review!


	15. Escape From Hell

_**Legal Disclaimer: Valve owns Bill, Louis, Zoey, and Francis. They also own the generic characters of the witch, hunter, smoker, boomer, and tank. And they own the general zombie apocalypse plot. I, the author, own Eris, Xavier, Heather, Alexis, Dr. Allan, Tyre, and the concept character Siren. Should Valve decide to make a character like mine in L4D3 (fingers crossed), then I'll likely lose rights to that, but if nothing else the flattery by theft will be worth it.**_

_Mature Content Warning: This story contains violence, swearing,and sexual themes. So yeah, if you're under age 18 you need to leave right now. Yes you read right. Oh come on! Don't pout like that. You're not old enough to run with the big dogs. Now go on and find some other dirty writing to satisfy your needs. Its up to the other sites to shoo you away as well as I have. ;-)_

Authors Notes: First things first: Its been almost two months, and I wanted this chapter to be longer. However time has been devoted to my job and family (both of which are picking up), and rather than let everyone think I fell off the face of the planet I decided to break this chapter up. Thus this chapter won't be as long as the other chapters, but I hope you all enjoy it.

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**IMPORTANT! PLEASE READ THIS!**

As I've mentioned before, reviews are fuel for my ego. I love when people compliment (and criticize) my story; it shows you all care. However, this story has apparently grown to the point where I have fans who compliment me in other ways. No, not what you all are thinking. Pervs. :-)

A rather talented author and artist known as HalfJaw101 on fanfiction . net and Volturon on deviantart . com has drawn fan art of the characters in Movie Night and Double Feature. Her drawings were not solicited or requested by me, they were done purely because she wanted to.

My jaw hit the desk when I saw them.

Folks, I'm not trying to raise the bar here for showing appreciation, but its this kind of thing that really gives me that warm fuzzy feeling I get from reviews, only much more so. She is a talented author and a great artist, and I invite you to look at her works on deviantart . com. You will need an account to see the pictures, since they depict nudity ;-), but singing up doesn't take long and it's worth it. She also drew a rather provocative scene from Movie Night that was for my eyes only, but likely only because deviantart . com would consider it porn if she posted it.

Below is the link to a beautiful drawing of Bill and Eris taking a moment to share their affection (again you will have to sign up and sign in first, but once you've done that you'll see _everything._) Of course, certain dots and slashes have been removed because Fanfiction doesn't like web links or email addresses, so use your heads (e.g. Where you see the word "slash", insert a forward slash, and be sure to remove all spaces).

Volturon . Deviantart . Com "slash" gallery "slash" 27758259 ? loggedin=1# "slash" d37issx

And there's another called Dreamland that depicts the dream sequence Bill has about The Passing. Specifically its in chapter six when he dreams he dies and the angel of Eris is there to comfort him.

volturon . deviantart . com "slash" # "slash" d39mswv

Or you could simply search for the artist Volturon on deviantart, then check her gallery for the fan art section. There are lots of pictures, but the three related to this store are: Bill and Eris, and Movie Night clean, and Dreamland.

And this goes without saying: If you like what she's drawn, leave a comment on the deviantart . com website! She may do more stuff like this if enough people like it!

On with the story.

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Chapter 15 – Escape from Hell

Muffled laughter mixed with a slight cough came from beneath Tyre's presumed lifeless form after the door slid shut. He pulled himself up, paying no mind to the sizable amount of his own blood on the floor. The wound had already partially healed; MR-1's regenerative capabilities were incredible, but he was still in no condition to go after them.

Not yet.

Tyre huffed, limping over to a nearby storage closet. Within he grabbed three very large looking needles. To the untrained eye they appeared to be nothing more than typical epinephrine shots, however these specially formulated shots were loaded with both adrenaline and a highly concentrated form of sugar to provide the calories needed for MR-1 to begin transformation on its host.

"This..." he wheezed, injecting himself one right after the other. The combined shots would drastically increase MR-1's rate of cellular repair and viral procreation, thus rapidly healing his wound. Of course, as the virus grew within him beyond the current "stable" levels, there was a good chance he would lose himself. But he had a means to counteract that...

"Is far..." he coughed, walking a little less askew now towards the specimen refrigerator. Trembling hands grabbed two syringes labeled with his own crude handwriting. One a containing a refined form of the virus base from Eris' blood; the key to retaining his consciousness. And the other...

"From..." He stuck the first needle in his arm and depressed the plunger. Tossing it aside, he readied the next, taking a deep breath. There would be no turning back...

"OVER!" He roared, pushing the needle in and injecting the second needle's contents. Faster than cyanide, the liquid coursed through his veins towards his heart.

Thump thump.

Thump thump.

Thump...

The life muscle pumped faster, then abruptly stopped.

Tyre felt like he was dying as he collapsed to the floor, his vision going spotty. Had he failed? Was this what it was like for the special infected before their transformation? These questions and a few others were the last to run through his panicked mind before the world swallowed him in darkness.

Within his brain, the virus mutated the pituitary gland, increasing it's hormonal output three fold. His muscles tore and re-healed, his bones grew to massive proportions. The skin stretched so far, the very ribbed outlines of his muscles could be seen. Sections of his epidermis cracked and ripped, but rapidly healed over as the virus raged inside him. His torso began to stretch, the rib bones becoming visible as they nearly outgrew their fleshy casing. Every bone doubled in size, right up to his fingers, which were now nearly as thick as a child's wrist. The virus inflamed his heart, causing it too to drastically increase in size. As of that moment, the man named Dr. Tyre was no more.

…

… thump thump thump thump thump thump thump thump thump!

With a sudden rush his heart began to beat frantically, pumping blood to every part of his suddenly aching body. Tyre gasped and sat up, the lights stinging his eyes as he clutched his chest. It felt like a heart attack but no... his heart was... growing. Yes it was growing, along with the rest of him. His entire body felt hot, his skin turning pink as blood flooded everywhere. Muscles ached, ripping then healing, then ripping again as they expanded. His skin had already stretched and healed over, little marks appearing like gash wounds that healed up twice as fast. He grabbed a bag of plasma left behind by one of the survivors, drinking it down ravenously as his rapidly changing body demanded sustenance of any kind to continue growing. The pain was immense, and all concept of time was lost on the doctor as his body transformed.

"Bwa ha ha ha!" This creature laughed, his voice already sounding oddly off as errant blood dribbled from his chin. The sound of stitches popping could be heard, his lab coat ripping over his shoulder. Hell, even his skin already felt too tight and his bones ached; he was going through growing pains like most adolescents did during the teenage years, but ten times faster and a hundred times more potent. Oh how he was growing. It hurt like hell, but he was getting used to the pain. Pain meant change, and that he welcomed. He never imagined the process would be so fast, but it was a good thing. Time was not on his side. He felt peckish too. Something meaty and bloody sounded great. A rare steak. No, he wanted it raw! Fuck cooking it. Too much blood gone to waste. God he was hungry. No, not hungry... _famished_!

"Grrarrghh!" He threw a large metal table aside like it was nothing, heading towards the door for the holding area. The opposite door led to the elevator that was already on its way up with his guinea pigs. No sense going that way and waiting for it to come back down. No time. Besides, the familiar coppery smell of blood hung in the air. The blood he smelled was not his own, now drying in a pool on the floor. No, this scent seeped from behind the security door for the holding cells. He could smell it as sure he could smell a fly fart from ten miles away. His heightened senses were incredible.

The door slid open, revealing a bloodied room and three S.I feasting on what remained of three soldiers. A murderous smile stretched across his already distorted face, the skin barely able to keep up with the growing bone.

"Save some for me!" The growing creature roared in an inhuman voice, causing all three S.I. to look up in surprise. The smoker hacked and coughed, backing away, one glassy eye wide with fear. The boomer groaned and stared for a moment, an errant bit of someone's cheek hanging from his mouth, before wisely waddling backwards. The hunter snarled, crouching protectively in front of his meal. He was in no mood for sharing, and the blood lust from before was clouding his mind, unlike the other two S.I. who realized they were woefully outmatched. Tyre simply grinned and beckoned with one meaty finger.

Whether or not the gray-skinned predator had understood the human taunt, he certainly acknowledged it. The hunter shrieked and leaped, intending to tear out the intruder's throat.

With a sickening crunch of bone and flesh, the huge beast brought both of his massing hands together, clapping the hunter on either side of his head before he could pounce. The hunter's skull caved in, blood and brain matter shooting from his ears and now blown out eyes as Tyre's huge triceps bulged and twitched, increasing the pressure. Even though the hunter was dead, the huge man took a sick pleasure in mashing his fingers into the dead hunter's skull like play doh. He sucked the blood from his fingers, before ripping open the hunter's ribcage and tearing out his heart, feasting on it like a ripe apple.

The smoker and boomer watched in horror. This huge red-skinned creature in tattered clothing looked like a tank, though he seemed even _bigger._ However, what frightened the two special infected was the way this creature acted with a purposeful cruelty, just like the doctor who would repeatedly perform his painful tests on them.

The sound of bone and sinew tearing as the creature ripped more meat from a thigh bone made both S.I. tremble as they hid in a corner of their cells. They could only hope the fallen hunter would satisfy this thing's ferocious appetite, and that they wouldn't become the next course.

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"Clear," Malory said as he and Lenhart stepped out of the elevator doors. The typical posts for soldiers were completely deserted. It looked like Dr. Allan's "emergency meeting" had bought them some time. The group walked casually, though in no less a hurry, towards the south vehicle bay. The occasional soldier or medical staff worker would hurry by, not even giving them a second glance. Outside a set of double doors and onto a grassy field, even more people could be found hurrying off.

The late afternoon sun was lazily approaching the end of the day, shadows beginning to disappear to the encroaching dusk. The group of seven pressed on, making haste for the southern entrance. After a few minutes of hurried walking, they had arrived.

Closing off Echo Rho Tau from the infected world was a reinforced concrete wall about thirty feet high. The entrance was a massive steel gate, flanked by two guard towers. To the right was a large enclosed garage area with several military vehicles waiting for repairs.

"Inside that repair bay is an old weapons storage area," Xavier said.

As the group rounded the corner of the enclosed garage, Malory and Lenhart froze.

"We've got a problem," Heather whispered.

"What?" Zoey asked, before the soldiers quickly crouched down by the corner of the garage. The survivors followed suit, half hidden from sight.

"Those guard towers are occupied," Xavier said quietly. "Emergency meeting or not, their posts must be manned at all times, and unless relief comes, they aren't going anywhere."

"So what do we do?" Louis asked, glancing upwards. The two guards were completely unaware of the group below; they were far to busy scanning the surrounding woods for any potential threats.

"I say we just sneak in, the bay door's are right around the corner. Then we steal a vehicle and make a run for it." Francis whispered. "Who's with me?"

The sound of a gunshot answered him.

The group froze and Malory peered around the corner, half expecting one of the guards to have his rifle pointed at them, but the guards were staring out into the field, smoke wisps trailing from one of the rifles.

"Nice try leaper," One of the guards said tauntingly. Though the survivors couldn't see it, the two guards were staring at a hunter collapsed in a heap on the ground outside the perimeter.

"Still think we should just run for it Francis?" Bill asked dryly.

"Well shit, why not ask 'Captain Commando'?" Francis grumbled, looking to the empty space where Sgt. Malory once stood.

"Where did..." Zoey started.

"Loooook," Eris whispered, peering around the corner and pointing with one claw towards the closest tower. Sgt. Malory and Pvt. Lenhart had each taken a tower, and were quickly climbing the wooden ladders. Both guards had already taken notice of the two soldiers climbing the opposite tower. The rest of the survivors huddled close near the corner of the building for a better view.

"This is bad," Louis whispered. There would be no element of surprise on their parts. This could be over sooner than it started.

"I've got a clear shot..." Zoey whispered, zooming in on one of the guards with her H&K sniper rifle. Her vision blurred as the muzzle of the gun was gently pushed down.

"Wait," Bill whispered. Both Malory and Lenhart were already near the top of the towers. The sergeant had to pull himself onto the top of the tower, the guard staring at him suspiciously, his rifle not completely by his side. Lenhart however was being given a helping hand by the other guard, who pulled her up the last couple rungs. Conversation started between the two pairs, though no one could hear what was being said.

"I don't like this," Louis said, noticing Malory's guard being rather rigid as he tried to talk to him.

"Looks like Heather's doing alright," Zoey whispered, peering through her sniper scope. The petite soldier was obviously flirting, and the guard was buying it. A few more brief words, the two soldiers saluted and the guard left his post.

"Not bad, kid," Bill whispered to himself.

"C'mon, we're being relieved!" The first guard shouted from the ground to his comrade, who still eyed Malory with suspicion.

"I'm not moving until my shift is over!" The other guard shouted back to his buddy who was already near the bottom of his tower.

"Frank, you're the rod up everyone's ass!" The other guard shouted up to him. "Its an emergency meeting and we've got relief. So get your ass down here and lets go."

"Frank" grumbled and glared at Malory, who simply met his stare with an "all business" arch of the eyebrows. Reluctantly the slung his sniper rifle over his shoulder and began climbing down the ladder. The two guards hurried off, and only until they were well out of sight, did Malory and Lenhart unlock the main gate from their stations before scurrying back down.

The group hurried into the garage, passing several transport trucks in various states of repair. Near the back was a large fenced off area with a sign that said, "Weapons Storage Delta."

The biker grinned like a kid at Christmas. "A weapons storage area means the big guns! Now I'm gonna get me a _real _boomstick!"

"It's an _old _weapons storage area," Heather said with a lopsided smile. "Security technology for this building is older, so nothing particularly destructive is kept here. Not just _any _soldier can open a weapons storage locker with the 'big guns'," she continued as Malory unlocked one of the weapon storage lockers.

"So long as it shoots bullets, I'll take it," Bill said, he and Malory passing weapons out to the rest of the group. Thankfully every soldier, save for a skeleton crew of perimeter security, was headed for this "emergency meeting" so there was no worries about unexpected company.

"I missed you baby," Francis said as he ran his gloved hand over the cold steel of his .50 caliber hand cannon. Zoey eyed her katana with a similar joy, running her thumb across the blade. Louis simply laughed and slung his M-16 over his shoulder, while Bill, Malory, and Lenhart stuffed as much ammo as they could in their cargo pockets.

"I missed you too," a familiarly sultry voice replied from behind. The biker nearly dropped his side arm, thinking it suddenly spoke to him. A giggle, followed by a gentle squeeze of his arm, made him realize otherwise.

"'Bout time you showed up beautiful," Francis said to Alexis, who'd approached him from behind.

"If only we had some more time," she sighed, before addressing the rest of the group. "It looks like Dr. Allan's diversion worked, but it won't keep the heat away for long. All of you need to get out of here now."

"Aren't you and Dr. Allan coming with us?" Heather asked.

"No. Dr. Allan's 'emergency meeting on Tyre's behalf is to announce that he's 'gravely ill', and that as C.M.O, he will be taking charge in the meantime," Alexis said. "Thus we're going to remain here."

"Alexis, this nightmare has to stop." Malory said. "Dr. Allan may have good intentions, but the fact remains..."

"The fact remains that Dr. Allan is NOT going to continue the research that Tyre was working on," Alexis said, her chocolate eyes staring the hazel-eyed sergeant down. "He's going to do what Tyre should have been doing all this time: develop a cure."

"You know that once the honest-to-god military finds out about this base, they're going to come down on you guys hard." Bill said.

"And what if they're in on this too?" Louis commented. "They'll just replace Dr. Allan with another delusional nut case from TriHex, like Tyre!"

"That's why Dr. Allan is going to keep things quiet for a bit. And why we need all of you to promise to keep your mouths shut as well," Alexis said.

Bill's eyes narrowed along with the rest of his friends, who were also more than a little uncomfortable with this. All of them had had enough with secrets.

"Dr. Allan is going to _destroy _all of Tyre's findings, and anything unrelated to curing MR-1." Alexis continued, sensing the survivors' unease. "This way there won't be anything left to identify this base as being linked with TriHex. Still, it's going to take time without causing suspicion."

"I still don't like this at all," Bill grumbled. Eris growled softly and hugged his arm, her natural reaction to when he was upset.

"I hate it," Francis said, adding his two cents.

"Same here," Louis added.

"Ditto," Zoey concurred.

"Don't you trust me?" Alexis pouted trying to be cute, but the atmosphere was anything but playful. Bill's expression remained unchanged. Eris' eyes narrowed, staring at Alexis. Francis, Louis, and Zoey held glares of disdain. Even Sgt. Malory and Pvt. Lenhart looked unconvinced. An uncomfortable silence filled the air, until Bill voiced what they all were thinking.

"The road to hell is paved with good intentions," The war vet said flatly.

The ebony beauty sighed and removed a radio device from her belt, placing in the war vet's free hand.

"The medical staff uses a private channel on an encrypted network," Alexis said. "It's like a cell phone, in that it uses the military's global satellites for establishing a connection." She caught a glimpse of Sgt. Malory and Pvt. Lenhart looking away angrily. The R.N. felt a pang of regret; realizing that they didn't even know about the private communication channel. They had been kept in the dark about almost everything.

"So in other words I could use this anywhere in the world to contact Dr. Allan?" Bill asked.

"Yes. Once it's on, there's always a connection to the other device, like a walkie talkie. However if the device is off or out of range, voice messages can be left for the paired device on the network." Alexis closed her hands around Bill's palm. "Please check in often." She said, her eyes lingering more on the biker than the war veteran.

"Are you _sure_ you won't come with us?" Francis asked, hopeful but trying not to sound it. Zoey held in a snicker at the biker's puppy dog eyes. She'd never seen him actually disappointed.

"You'll do just fine out there without lil ole me to distract you, big boy." Alexis purred, leaning in to give him a gentle peck on the lips. "Besides, you have a more important job: protecting the rest of them." The ebony beauty gave him another playful squeeze, smirking at the rest of the group. Zoey scowled, but Bill and Louis smiled, realizing the R.N.'s game of playing the biker's ego.

"Yeah they'd be lost without me," Francis sighed before scratching the back of his head.

"We'll make sure everyone gets where they have to go," Sgt. Malory said, addressing Alexis.

"And where are we going exactly?" Zoey interjected.

"Not too far from this base is a cargo train maintenance station." Malory said. "We find an operational train, then make tracks for Rayford, Georgia."

Zoey's blue eyes went vacant and her cheeks turned pale as the blood left her face, her heart suddenly racing in panic at the name of the cursed town from her nightmares. Lenhart cocked an eyebrow at the college girl, she looked like she'd seen a ghost.

"What's... what's in Rayford, Georgia?" Zoey squeaked, her voice a rasp in her throat. Louis gently clasped her hand with his, wondering what was wrong. He half expected her to shrug it off, but the fact that her hand felt like ice and squeezed back with a death grip had him more than a little worried.

"There's a military reserve center near the river in that town." The hazel-eyed sergeant said. "We lost contact with them months ago, so it's a safe bet the town is overrun. However the important thing is they're directly accessible by train, and the base controls one of the only water locked towns with access to the ocean."

"Why's that important?" Louis asked.

"I think what Sergeant Malory's saying is we can commandeer a boat and sail off to an island where we'll be safe," Bill said, looking at the sergeant who nodded once.

"Have you ever been to an island old man? They're frickin horrible," Francis growled.

"Doesn't matter Francis. As far as we know zombies can't swim." Bill retorted, rubbing his beard.

"They're not the only ones..." Francis grumbled.

"You all need to hurry then. Good luck." Alexis said, before shooting a playful scowl at Pvt. Lenhart. "Take care of Sgt. Malory. You know how helpless men are without a strong woman to back them up."

Heather gave Alexis a friendly pat on the shoulder, "I will, and that goes double for you and Dr. Allan."

Alexis laughed, "Sometimes I think I cause him more stress than I'm worth, but I promise to make sure he rests and doesn't burn himself out on this cure."

"Gooodbyyyeee Alleexiisss," Eris said.

"Goodbye Eris," the R.N. said sadly, embracing the gray goddess in a long hug. She was really going to miss the white-haired woman. "Make sure you take good care of everyone, and don't let Bill go off and do something stupid like play the hero," she whispered in her ear.

"Prrooommissseee," Eris sang, gently kissing Alexis' cheek. The ebony beauty smiled one last time at the group, her eyes lingering on the tattooed biker, before quickly hurrying out of sight.

"Alright. Let's jump start one of these supply trucks," Francis grumbled, turning away quickly and scanning the garage. Every supply truck was fully loaded with cargo, with only a two-seater cab for passengers. It would take far too long to try and unload those massive crates.

"That one will work," Louis said, pointing at a supply truck that only had a couple crates stacked near the back.

"Let's get going then," Zoey said after inspecting her katana blade and sliding it into the sheath.

Louis and Zoey jumped into the cab while the others filed onto the back. Fortunately the keys were "in plain sight" having been hidden beneath the visor.

"Talk about the oldest hiding place in the book for keys," Louis commented.

"Thank goodness we didn't have to hot wire it," Zoey said. "Who knows how long that would've taken?"

As if answering the college girl, the truck stammered and stuttered, the engine refusing to turn over.

"Figures," Louis sighed, pumping the gas pedal a couple times. "At least we're not in that big of a-"

"FREEZE!" Someone shouted.

Zoey looked up to see a squad of red-eyed soldiers approach from the bay doors.

"We've got company," the college girl said. "C'mon Louis!"

"I'm trying, I'm trying!" the dark man said, panic rising as the engine continued to stutter. The soldiers froze for a moment, before the leader of the group raised his rifle.

And with that, the truck roared to life.

"Exit the vehicle now!" He ordered, the other soldiers raising their weapons.

"Oh shit. Not good." Zoey whispered, slowly putting her hands in the air. Louis let go of the keys and placed his hands on his head. The idea of running them down crossed his mind for a split second before wisely being ignored. Those soldiers would riddle the truck with hot lead before they got close enough. The gamble of his life and Zoey's wasn't worth it. The soldiers slowly approached, weapons drawn.

"Now what?" Bill whispered from the back of the truck.

"I don't think they know we're back here," Francis whispered. "We can take them by surprise."

"Fat chance," Heather said, peering over her shoulder though the back window. "Louis and Zoey have their hands up, and those guys have their rifles drawn. If we try something they'll be shot." She watched anxiously as the soldiers closed the distance.

Then they froze dead in their tracks.

"What the?" She mouthed.

Suddenly an enchanting voice filled the air. More moving than a church choir, more beautiful than heaven's angels, Heather felt her entire body begin to relax. The dark man and the college girl up front slowly brought their hands down, and the red-eyed soldiers didn't seem to care. It was like a tranquil fog had enveloped them all. Even that irritating biker was relaxed, like he'd just finished smoking a perfect roll of weed. The only person who didn't seem taken by this was the old war veteran. He was smiling, but he didn't seem entranced like everyone else. They were in danger, yet the tension in the air was gone. Xavier seemed to be in a daze, his eyes nearly glazed over at this strange, intoxicating voice. Heather followed his stare to the gray-skinned woman who was standing up, singing.

Bill stood up in the back of the truck, watching his lover wield her gifted voice like a sword to passively cut down the opposition. Eris had taken the situation into her own claws, using her vocal talents to subdue the corrupted soldiers. They stared slack-jawed, their weapons falling from their hands.

"Her voice... it's... beautiful," one stammered, his arms limp at his sides. His eyes were more vacant than a common zombie.

"She's like an angel," another said, completely entranced by the gray goddess in her white sundress.

"Isn't she though?" Bill said, gently wrapping an arm around her slender waist. Eris smiled but kept her golden eyes focused on the soldiers as she sang, holding them under her spell. Eris' enchanting voice was nothing short of mesmerizing, but Bill had grown accustomed to it. Though the war vet was just as stunned as his friends the night when he and Eris danced beneath the stars, it was only because his woman looked more beautiful than anyone he'd ever set eyes on. Ever since the war vet's nightmare in the safe house, the passive infected woman wanted to be sure her lover would wake gently and peacefully, so each morning since their first night at the base she would awaken first and sing, waking him in a manner most pleasant.

"We're just taking a drive, we'll be back." Bill said, while Eris continued her melody.

"I... can't let you do that..." the lead soldier said, rather half halfheartedly. Bill recognized him as the tower guard that Malory spoke to earlier. Whether he intended to stop them or not, he wasn't in the mental state for a firefight, and neither was the rest of his squad. Still, even a missed shot would call attention to them, and the idea here was stealth.

"Pllleeeaassseee," Eris sang, flashing a sweet smile.

With that the soldiers hastily stepped aside, clearing the way.

"Louis. Drive." Bill said through the driver's window.

"Huh?" The dark man replied.

Bill slapped his cheek. "C'mon son, let's go!"

Louis shook his head once, clearing the fog from his mind and threw the truck into gear and drove out of the bay.

"Thaaannnk yooooouu," Eris sang to the soldiers who merely stared vacantly. The main gate slowly slid aside, the motion sensor detecting the large truck. It seemed to take forever, though every second felt like an hour when trying to stealthily escape.

Lenhart watched the stunned soldiers as they drove away, immediately recognizing the two tower guards she and Malory had talked to before. She locked eyes with "Frank" for a split second.

A split second too long.

"Frank" shook his head as though waking from a deep sleep. "They're... not one of us!" He shouted, his red-tinged eyes glowing. "After them!"

"Time to bug out!" Bill yelled. Louis hit the gas and the truck barreled through the open gates and out into the woods filled with dangers unknown.

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A/N: Again, sorry this is a short one, but lord knows how long it will take me to write the rest the way things are going right now. At least this way it won't seem like forever between updates. Please review, and don't forget to check out those fan art pictures and review them too!


	16. The Sacrifice: Prelude to Rayford prt1

_**Legal Disclaimer: Bill, Louis, Francis, Zoey, generic characters of the witch, hunter, smoker, boomer, and tank are property of Valve. The zombie apocalypse plot associated with Left 4 Dead belongs to Valve as well. This subplot, and all other named characters are property of xmodius. This includes but is not limited to: Eris, Tyre, Malory, Lenhart, Dr. Allan, Alexis, Siren concept character, and others not part of the original L4D world.**_

_Mature Content Warning: This story contains violence and sexual themes and is more exciting than a roller coaster ride on acid (trust me on that one, and don't try that for yourself, the photo they take makes for great blackmail for your friends). Like a roller coaster, this story should not be read by those with heart or medical conditions. Like porn, this should only be enjoyed by those over 18. Like swimming, you should do it with a friend, preferably one with benefits, preferably nude, and with an open mind._

Author's Notes: Yet again another span of time b/t chapters. Once again life is busy, work, etc. blah blah fucking blah. I know you're all tired of hearing the same song and dance from me, but boring or redundant as it may be, its still the truth. This chapter has been split into a couple parts so that I could deliver something to keep you all interested. The next couple weeks I'll be in a courtroom earning my keep and the last thing I'm going to want to do when I get out of there is write, so its now or never with getting more of this story completed before friggin April rolls around. Thus I hope you all enjoy this chapter, though it will probably give you all a bad case of teasing (or may be unnecessary filler, I'm not sure which). In any case, review and know the best part is yet to come. Thanks again to everyone who's reviewed and the hundreds of people who've faved this story.

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Chapter 16 – The Sacrifice: Prelude to Rayford (Part 1)

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A squad of soldiers hastily made their way across the grassy field, approaching one of the research buildings.

"What's this emergency meeting about?" One asked.

"An emergency I guess?" Another replied dryly.

"Put a sock in it ladies," a soldier at the lead barked over his shoulder. "And double time it! We're going to be late."

"Can't imagine what the big deal is," another grumbled as they passed the double doors of the research building.

The leader was just about to tell the others to shut up, but a loud crash interrupted them. The doors flew off their hinges, one flying right towards the group leader. He had less than a second to process what happened, before the top end of the door went through his neck, slicing his head from his shoulders.

The other soldiers froze in horror as their squad leader's headless body collapsed in a bloody heap, the roar of his killer drawing their attention.

"Holy mother of... that thing's frickin huge!" One soldier yelled, his eyes widening in horror. The squad stood within the shadow of a juggernaut. Easily twice or even thrice the size of a Tank, his blood-flushed red skin barely covered the massive amounts of solid muscle that made up his body. It's shoulders were as broad as a car was wide, with large bone protrusions shooting out like an extension of the shoulder blades. The arms were thicker than an oak tree trunk, smaller bony spikes jutting out at various angles. His face resembled the outlines of a human skull, the skin stretched so far one could barely see the ghost of the scar that ran over one eye. His mouth was pulled back in a hideously cruel smile, permanently exposing vicious saw-like teeth. Huge muscular legs balanced out the behemoth's upper body.

One of the soldiers swallowed hard. There was no way that thing could have fit through those double doors standing up. It must have charged through them on all fours. One massive hand snatched up the remains of the other door like a shield, holding it by the push-bar that opened it from the inside.

"Fire... FIRE!" He yelled, finding his voice.

The squad brought their rifles to bare, but the closest unlucky soul never had a chance. He screamed just before a massive fist clocked him, sending him flying backwards nearly ten yards. The other soldiers were a bit faster on their feet, backpedaling out of range. Their gun barrels lit up as they unloaded on the huge creature.

"Grraaaagh... burraww haa haa haa," the beast half-roared, half-laughed while holding the solid door in front of itself to block most of the bullets. The few that did get by felt no worse than B.B. gun pellets. The huge creature charged and swung his makeshift shield at another soldier, crumpling him on the spot and shattering the door. The scent of blood filled the air, further driving the creature's unmatched rage. Two more soldiers remained, both trying in vain to bring the creature down now that it lost it's "shield".

"Son of a bitch!" The braver of the two shouted, loading another clip and firing at the beast's exposed chest. It grunted in irritation as it closed the distance, snatching the rifle right out of the stunned soldier's arms. With a sadistic grin it bent the rifle in half like one would bend a coat hanger. The disarmed soldier met a similar fate. His comrade loaded another clip while he tried tried to choose between "fight" or "flight." He watched in horror as the behemoth literally ripped his fellow soldier in half at the waist with a sickening sound of snapping bone. Blood poured out of the two halves, the upper half twitching a little in its death throes.

Clearly, "flight" was the better choice.

The retreating soldier dropped his rifle and took off in a dead sprint. Hopefully he could put enough distance between himself and that beast while it was preoccupied.

But fate had no mercy this day.

The soldier tripped on an errant rock and fell flat on his face. The ground shook beneath him, and suddenly the sky grew dark. He turned over as a massive shadow fell over him, this "tank on steroids" grinning with errant bits of his comrade's flesh from his mouth. The soldier's lower lip trembled as two massive hands of death reached for him.

The last wish to run through his mind before it was crushed beneath his skull was that it would all be over quickly.

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The supply truck kicked up dirt and gravel as it sped down the winding path. Barely wide enough for two vehicles to squeeze side by side and with more divots and potholes than a Philadelphia side street, the path made driving the large transport truck at anything over a jogger's pace a considerable challenge. The truck bounced and shook as it "sped" towards its destination. Louis noticed they were barely hitting 25 miles per hour. The path was anything but straight as it twisted and wound through the pines; the systems analyst barely had a chance to apply the gas before he'd have to cut the wheel and hit the brakes.

It made for a very bumpy ride.

They passed random groups of common infected, most of which pursued them until they ran out of breath or they were out of sight. Those that grappled for the side of the truck had their fingers smashed beneath the butt of a rifle. One unlucky soul decided to charge the front, and everyone felt it when he was crushed beneath the supply truck's wheels.

"God damn it that hurt," Zoey swore as the entire vehicle shook, making her bump her head on the roof of the cab.

"Not as much as it hurt that last zombie," Louis said as he flicked on the headlights. Though the sun hadn't completely set, the pot holes were blending in with the evening shadows. Another hole in the dirt came into his sights, but too late to avoid. The truck shuddered as it momentarily bottomed out, throwing everyone in the air.

"Louis are you _aiming _for every pothole?" Zoey asked as her fanny was whacked again by the seat.

"Sorry, I don't like driving at night," Louis said.

"I can see why," Zoey grumbled.

"I'm afraid of the dark," Louis said in a pouting voice, placing his hand just above her knee. Zoey cocked an eye at him, but the systems analyst flashed a smart-ass smile.

The college girl rolled her eyes as a smile forced its way onto her face. "Have I ever told you I love your sense of humor?" She tried to say dryly, but a giggle that squeaked out at the end ruined her ploy at being sarcastic.

"Nope," Louis said.

"Good," Zoey retorted, squeezing his hand.

"You guys okay back there?" Louis shouted after sliding open the small back window to the cab.

"Never better, except my nuts feel like they're in my throat!" Francis yelled over the noise of the truck. "That and one of these huge crates shifted and nearly ran me down! I hate crates..."

"Double time it son!" Bill said, cutting off the biker. "Sooner we get to that train the better I'll feel."

"Sorry Bill, we can't go any faster," Louis shouted as he returned his eyes to the road. "The road's way too bumpy. I don't want to lose anyone by running over a big enough pothole."

"I'm more concerned about the special infected out here," Sgt. Malory said, scanning the trees as best he could. Another jabbering commoner rushed the vehicle, lucky enough to latch onto the side of it. He met the butt of Malory's rifle before he could even pull himself up. Trying to shoot from a moving vehicle was hard enough, but on a bumpy road they might as well be unarmed. He and the biker were crouched behind two of the large crates, but the rest of the group was exposed. The sergeant scratched his head, wondering just what the hell would be in a crate four feet tall and just as wide. It was amazing there was room for two of these crates and still a few feet between them. Perhaps the dark man driving was right about taking it easy. A truck this size didn't corner very well. Still, those damn special infected would look for any opportunity to...

As if on cue, the battle cry of a smoker echoed over the forest. The survivors scanned the surrounding tree tops.

"Where are you, you sick son of a..." Pvt. Lenhart whispered, looking towards the tops of the trees.

Suddenly a cloud of green smoke wafted by the side of the truck. The smoker had been lurking on the ground, waiting for his opportunity as the truck drove by. The open back was the perfect vantage to drag an unwary survivor right off the speeding vehicle for an easy meal.

With a violent cough, a fleshy slime-covered tongue shot at the group like a cobra, wrapping around Lenhart's torso and dragging her to the edge of the truck bed.

"Heather!" Xavier shouted. Knowing he'd never crack off a lucky head shot before in time, the burly sergeant dove for his lover and grabbed her leg with one hand while grabbing at the side rails of the truck bed. Xavier grunted and strained against the pull of the smoker's powerful tongue as Heather wrestled in vain with the fleshy rope around her waist. The tongue was long, but it would run out of length soon, and the question would be who would pull who when it did. With only one arm to hold on, the sergeant didn't like his odds.

Eris snarled and rushed the two soldiers, yanking on the infected noose and turning the tide in this tug of war. The smoker screeched as he was pulled right off his feet by his own tongue. Heather coughed and sucked air as Xavier quickly untangled her from the loose end while Eris dragged the coughing infected down the road with them.

Bill watched his lover grit her teeth as she dragged the smoker along for the ride, until mercifully the tongue tore in her clawed grip, its owner tumbling over and over out of sight. The sudden snap sent Eris staggering back, right into Bill's arms.

"Nice one sweetheart." Bill said, gently pawing her shoulders as he braced her. "Can't tell you how many times I've wanted to turn the tables on those cowardly bastards." Eris turned to smile at him, but her eyes suddenly went wide in horror.

"Look out!" Xavier shouted.

Bill pivoted on the balls of his feet as a screech echoed above him. He had less than a moment to process what would happen before his aged reflexes could react. The hunter had executed his jump perfectly, and in a second the hooded killer would slam into the war vet with enough force to break his ribs. Bill swung his rifle up as the hunter barreled towards him from the sky...

Impact occurred sooner than he thought. A sudden collision, followed by his ass hitting the truck bed, though it didn't hurt nearly as bad as it should have. The war vet brought his arms up expecting to fend off a blur of swipes meant for his throat, but there was no attack. He lowered his arms to find Eris in a wide stance, bracing herself.

"_What the hell? Did she just body check me?"_

An instant later the airborne hunter pounced Eris instead of him. The gray goddess rolled onto her back and brought her knees to her chest as her assailant landed. With a shriek she planted both feet into the hunter's gut and kicked, using his momentum to send him flying over her head. The leaper flipped end over end before slamming into the dirt road far behind them.

"God frigging damn, she's good," Xavier mumbled, arms still wrapped around Heather.

The brown-eyed private simply nodded. It was no wonder those immune survivors lasted as long as they had; their infected comrade was more capable in battle than some of the best soldiers she'd known.

Eris let out a sigh of relief and began to stand, but another pothole sent her right back on her butt. Bill smirked as his lover pouted and rubbed her bruised rump, as though the whole ordeal with the hunter was but a minor inconvenience compared to falling on her ass. She was a puzzling, yet no less sexy, juxtaposition of deadly and adorable.

"_Cute as all hell, too," _Bill thought as he tugged her to her feet by a clawed hand, until another bump threw them both off balance. The siren fell into the war vet, but he was quick to catch her as he landed on his back before she fell right on top of him. Eyes of amber and steel locked together beneath the curtain of platinum hair that spilled around them, cutting off the rest of the world if only for a moment. The two lovers smiled at each other before reluctantly standing up again.

"Ain't right to steal another man's kill y'know," Bill said half-kidding to his lover as they regained their footing. Eris rolled her eyes and smirked at her "wounded" soldier. Her lover's delicate pride was a stark contrast to his hard physique, but she'd risk bruising both to save him from a hunter's pounce any day. The others were chuckling at the war vet, his face beginning to blush from embarrassment at being caught off guard.

"You referring to Eris' kill or the hunter's, old man?" Francis said cheekily.

"I would've had that hunter..." Bill said, the others still trying to hold down their laughter. He was acting like a kid who missed the winning shot in a game.

"Soorrryyyy," Eris said in mock apology. Bill grumbled, but a wink and another coy smile from the gray beauty made the embarrassing moment worth it to the war vet.

"_Yup. Definitely cute. Damn sexy too."_

Bill was about to say something smart when he felt a sharp bite on his earlobe and heard an all too familiar sound: The sound of a bullet meant for the center of his head, off by about three inches.

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From the back of the stage, half hidden behind some tarp-covered sound equipment, Dr. Allan scanned the sea of faces seated on bleachers that faced the speaking area. The outdoor auditorium was primarily used by high level medical researchers to show presentations to top brass military or TriHex's upper management. It was rarely used in the first place, but since the out break it was all but forgotten. Many of the personnel were whispering to themselves, no doubt questioning each other on what this emergency meeting was about or grumbling that it was yet another waste of time. Most of those seated, however, were focused on the vacant podium.

He nearly yelped when a soft cloth appeared from nowhere to wipe the sweat from his brow.

"It'll be alright," Alexis whispered, squeezing his shoulder whilst removing his nervous perspiration. "Tyre's ill and needs to be quarantined until further notice. Just stick to that. Most of the soldiers won't ask for details anyway, they're trained not to."

"I'm not used to public speaking," he whispered back. "I..."

Two gentle fingers on his lips shushed him. "I know, just take a deep breath. I'll be right next to you to back you up. Just give me a signal if you want me to field a question."

"What kind of sig- ACK!" The olive-skinned doctor yelped when the same two gentle fingers pinched his ass.

"Just nudge me or... something..." Alexis giggled. "We'll be behind the podium so no one will notice."

Dr. Allan ran a hand over his face. His temples were throbbing, along with another body part thanks to his assistant's little grope.

"You're going to be the death of me, Ms. Stevens."

"Then you'll die smiling, Dr. Allan. Now come on, let's buy our friends some more time."

The pair approached the podium, unaware of just how little time they would have.

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The soldier groaned and picked himself up, trying to get his bearings. All he remembered was running with his squad to this emergency meeting, and then...

The sound of ripping flesh brought it all back. The massive punch that sent him airborne, and the huge creature behind that fist, not even ten yards away. Its back was to him as it tore into another one of his squad mates, errant body parts scattered about. It seemed the only thing more massive than the beast was its appetite. The beast bit into a leg it had quartered, the sound of fibrous sinew being ripped apart like rope made the wounded soldier wince. He could barely keep down his stomach's contents, but at least that thing was distracted. He had to get out of here.

The huge tank creature froze, looking up from his meal but not turning around... yet.

The soldier felt his heart in his throat as everything went silent. Even the wind had stopped blowing it seemed.

The huge creature sniffed the air as though picking up something familiar. With a deafening roar, it crouched on all fours like a gorilla and took off towards the southern entrance with surprising speed. Whoever that thing was after didn't have a prayer. The solider thought briefly of the tanks he'd encountered. Though their upper body was huge, their legs were so proportionately small they were almost useless. Tanks needed to use their arms to support their weight more than their legs, which made them slow enough to outrun. But this beast had massive legs to match its enormous chest. It was no wonder it looked to be twice the size of a tank, it easily stood twice as tall.

"We're all... in a fifteen... foot high pile of... trouble," the soldier gasped. He had to alert the others. Where was everyone anyway? His mind was still foggy. Then he remembered that emergency meeting.

One leg flew in front of the other over and over, sharp pains running from his thighs to his stomach. Running was more like fast limping, breathing felt like someone was stabbing him in the abdomen. Broken ribs most likely. He coughed twice and tasted a warm metallic liquid. Punctured lung too. The soldier grunted and picked up the pace as he tried to fight the dizziness. He didn't have much time.

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"Get down!" Heather shouted. Bill didn't have to be told twice. The war vet grabbed his gray lover and hit the truck bed as more bullets whizzed by.

"Louis, we've got company!" Francis yelled; the biker had already crouched behind one of the large crates. He tried to crack off a shot from his .50 caliber side arm without exposing himself, sticking his arm up above the crates.

"Wait! Don't shoot!" Bill yelled, but he was too late. Francis realized his own mistake as soon as he pulled the trigger. The magnum's recoil was far greater than that of a 9mm handgun. The instant it discharged, Francis flew back and whacked his head against the glass window of the cab, effectively knocking himself out and leaving a spiderweb crack in the glass.

"Francis!" Zoey cried, turning around. Heather and Xavier had crawled over behind the crates with the downed biker, while Bill and Eris right scurried behind the ones on the driver side by Louis. It would be a tight squeeze for all of them, even behind the two massive crates. Heather felt the back of the biker's shaven head, a little blood coating her fingertips. Xavier helped sit him up, earning a groan from the biker.

"He's alive, just had his bell rung," Xavier said. Heather popped her SMG over the crate and let fly with a spray of bullets. Her sub machine gun one-handed recoil was much better for laying out suppression fire.

Bill peeked around his crate. Barreling up behind them, though not gaining ground very quickly, was a smaller transport truck. One soldier was leaning out the passenger side, trying to crack off a shot with his pistol. Another with an AK-47 had braced himself on the head of the cab as he stood in the back. Thankfully the uneven dirt road made aim all but impossible for the pursuing soldiers. This fire fight was all about a lucky shot.

Clawed hands yanked the veteran back as another bullet imbedded itself into the wooden crate. Eris frowned at her lover's carelessness.

"Thanks sweetheart," Bill said, before drawing his Beretta. He and Lenhart fired above the crates, hoping to deter their pursuers, who were unloading more shots with their automatic weapons.

The first lucky shot came sooner than they thought.

"Gyaah!" Lenhart screamed and yanked her hand behind the crates.

"You hit?" Xavier asked, his brow furrowing. Her hand was bruised but there was no blood. Her SMG had deflected the bullet, and the vibration must have made it feel like she'd been shot.

"I'm fine," Heather said, reloading another clip. "Just shocked me is all."

"Ok... How you doin' over there Bill?" Malory asked, looking in his direction.

Bill didn't answer, he was staring slack-jawed in Malory's direction. His panicked expression was gone the next moment, replaced by the war vet's game face once more.

"Louis, step on it!" Bill shouted, quickly slamming another clip home. Sgt. Malory was confused as to what would panic the war veteran like that. Was it something on the crate? He stole a quick look around the crate even as the bullets continued to fly and felt his stomach bottom out at the black stenciled letters.

**DANGER! HIGH EXPLOSIVES!**

Malory saw the same lettering on the crate the war vet and the siren were hiding behind.

All of them were riding with enough explosives to crater a twenty story office building.

"Louis, step on it!" Malory shouted.

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"Everyone. May I have your attention please?" Dr. Allan said into the microphone. The sea of people in front of him fell silent, hundreds of eyes staring at him expectantly. He was starting to sweat again. Alexis stood a foot or two away from him as a respectful distance, but her hand squeezed his behind the podium. He glanced at her briefly, her chocolate brown eyes filled with reassurance.

"I'm sure you're all wondering why I've called this emergency meeting." Dr. Allan continued. The crowd was still silent, but that would change in the next few seconds. "General Tyre has been taken ill." A slight murmur went through the sea of voices, hushed conversations beginning to sprout up like unwanted mold in a petri dish. "The general is currently under quarantine. Until he is recovered and deemed fit to lead again..." he had to stifle his own nervous giggle at that comment, "I will be in charge of operations here at Echo Rho Tau. Are there any questions?"

The murmur of voices went silent for a second or two, then erupted into not so quiet conversations as numerous people stood to voice their questions or concerns. A group of soldiers near the front was making the most noise, until their lieutenant stood and glared at his men.

"Dr. Allan sir. Lieutenant Krauss, in charge of Recon Squad Delta." He said briefly introducing himself. "What's going to change now that General Tyre has taken... ill?" He asked.

Alexis smirked. Lt. Krauss' tone didn't have a trace of genuine concern about Tyre. In fact, it was almost as though he could see right through Dr. Allan's little lie, and he didn't seem to mind a bit. He actually sounded hopeful that with the big man down, things would change.

"Nothing will change unless General Tyre's condition does not improve." Dr. Allan said.

The lieutenant stared for a moment as though trying to read him, then saluted with a smile. "Whatever your orders are Dr. Allan, Delta squad will carry them out." Other groups of soldiers whispered softly, most of them nodding their heads.

Dr. Allan smiled at that. "Glad to hear it, Lt. Krauss. Anyone else?"

"Supply Runner Squad Sigma is behind you too, Dr. Allan." Another solider said, standing up and saluting.

"Double that for Rescue Squad Epsilon!" Yet another solider said, standing up. More and more soldiers were voicing their allegiance as well, though there were still pockets of soldiers who simply held their stoic gaze and said nothing. Dr. Allan didn't notice though. The fact that most of the soldiers were behind him was all that really mattered. The olive-skinned speaker didn't even realize he was smiling until he felt a pinch on his rear. Alexis grinned at him and quietly cleared her throat, urging him to continue addressing questions.

"Thank you all for your cooperation and dedication. Our primary work here at Echo Rho Tau is to save lives, and I am certain all of you will do your best to carry out that goal." Dr. Allan said as the audience began to quiet down.

A medical staff member stood next, a young man so thin it was a surprise the wind hadn't carried him away. "Uh. Dr. Allan," he said in a meek voice.

"Speak up son," Dr. Allan said.

The gaunt young man cleared his throat. "Sorry sir. Gary Darrington, viral research. Uh... General Tyre was one of the head doctors researching the mutated rabies virus. He..." the frail looking researcher was obviously very nervous as more eyes turned towards him. "...he shared next to nothing about the mutated rabies virus with us... he..."

"He was a solitary man, yes I know son." Dr. Allan said. He flinched ever so slightly as two fingers pinched his ass. A quick glare from Alexis told him he was being a little impatient. He cleared his throat, "Please continue, Mr. Darrington."

"Yes... well, what are we going to do without his findings?" Gary asked, finally finding his voice. Other researchers murmured as well, knowing most of their data on the mutated rabies virus was limited, although Tyre seemed to have a lot more about it from his work at TriHex.

"As the CMO of this base, I have access to Tyre's work." Dr. Allan said. Another murmur across the medical staff this time, they knew full well that Tyre didn't play well with other doctors. It was doubtful that Dr. Allan knew even half of what Tyre knew about this virus.

"And...," Dr. Allan paused for a moment to let the crowd simmer down. "Given his condition he has granted me access to _all _of his findings regarding the mutated rabies virus, or MR-1 as TriHex referred to it."

The murmur turned to a low roar of excitement, mostly among the medical staff, but the excitement was apparent even through a lot of the military, something Dr. Allan hadn't expected. Sgt. Malory had informed him through Alexis about the "MR-1 prototype soldier" that Tyre had been working on, and that after his run in with the guard for the research sub-level, he'd already tested it on a number of soldiers here at this base. It was unknown how many soldiers had been "turned" and how many of those would rally with the rest, or consider this speech a declaration of mutiny.

A squeeze on his hand and Dr. Allan glanced at the R.N. who smiled reassuringly. He squeezed her back, winking at her for a heart beat. This was going better than he thought.

"Quick! Someone get a stretcher! This man is wounded!" Someone shouted. Several soldiers hurried over to a badly limping man, blood running down his chin as he approached the stage.

"Grrgh... let...," a coughing fit as he choked on more blood. "Let me through damn it!" He yelled in a hoarse voice before collapsing. Two soldiers were quick to pick him up as a makeshift stretcher was made with three more BDU jackets. The struggling soldier pointed to Dr. Allan. "Waait..."

Dr. Allan and Alexis rushed to his side. "Just relax son, you're going to be alright." Dr. Allan said, though that was far from true. A sickly cough of a laugh answered the doctor.

"Tank... huge...," he choked out. "Came out... the lab... killed squad... ran towards... south entrance. Huge..." the soldier wheezed every word before mercifully falling unconscious.

"Get him to an operating room now!" Dr. Allan said to the soldiers holding him up. "One doctor and two assistants go with them!" Dr. Allan rushed back to the podium, nearly dragging Alexis by her hand he was moving so fast. "All squads, we're on emergency lock down! Seal off all entrances to the base. All medical personnel, get to your stations and lock all the building doors. Seal everything off until we're sure the perimeter is cleared." Dr. Allan shouted, clapping his hands. "C'mon! Lets move! Go Go GO!"

The entire mass of people scrambled off the bleachers to carry out their orders. Dr. Allan let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

"Way to take charge, Dr. Allan," Alexis said slyly, pulling him to face her. "I never knew you had it in- EEP!"

Dr. Allan grinned after grabbing a nice handful of her supple ass. "I had great 'support.' C'mon we need to get moving. No telling whats happened with Dr. Tyre's lab experiments."

Alexis ran with Dr. Allan towards the lab. Her hand slipped into her lab coat, fingering the unpaired radio hidden within; she prayed she wouldn't have to use it so soon...

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"'Step on it', he says," Louis swore as he swerved to avoid a group of small pines growing a little too close to the dirt path. The massive wheels snapped and flattened the smallest of them, but the truck still shook from the sudden impact.

"Not like we even know how close we are," Zoey mumbled, checking over her shoulder. Bill and Lenhart were still laying out suppression fire; due to the crates she couldn't tell just how close the other truck was. She checked the passenger side mirror. The truck behind them was closing, and one soldier was still leaning out the passenger window, pistol drawn.

In the next instant Zoey's mirror shattered as a 9mm round went right through it. Only fragments near the bottom remained in the housing. "Objects ma... close... they... ppear."

Zoey laughed dryly at just how close that last bullet _appeared_ to be. "Louis we almost there?"

"Your guess is as good as... BOOMER!"

One of the bloated infected had waddled into the dirt road like a deer at night, and when he saw the headlights of the truck barreling at him, he acknowledged the oncoming danger with a blank stare.

"Hang on!" Louis yelled before cutting the wheel hard to the right. The truck nearly went on two wheels from the sudden turn, and Zoey could hear the screams of surprise from the back.

The pursuing truck driver wasn't as quick to react and a moment later he slammed the smaller vehicle into the fat infected full force. The boomer exploded on impact, showering the truck and all the soldiers with disgusting green bile. The truck buckled from the impact and collided with a pine tree off the side of the path. A couple of the soldiers took the fall hard, but the driver was still conscious.

"Fuckin fat bastard," he swore, spitting some blood from his mouth. "Is everyone...?"

Suddenly his comrade was yanked out of the open passenger side window, arms and legs flailing wildly as half a dozen common zombies bit and tore hungrily at his face, completely mobbing the screaming soldier. Yelling and gunfire came from the back of the truck, followed by the sound of screaming and tearing flesh. More ripped and bloody arms reached through the shattered glass, accompanied by the insane babbling of the common infected.

The driver got off two shots from his pistol before the jabbering infected mob spilled into the truck and tore him apart.

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A/N: No worries folks, I should have part 2 of this up soon, but I don't want anyone to wait any longer than they have to, even if that means teasing the heck out of you all. :-) Review!


	17. The Sacrifice: Prelude to Rayford prt2

_**Legal Disclaimer: Survivors Bill, Zoey, Louis, Francis, and the S.I. characters Smoker, Boomer, Hunter, Tank, Witch, and Screamer, are property of Valve. All other named characters are mine, which includes but is not limited to: Sgt. Xavier Malory, Pvt. Heather Lenhart, R.N. Alexis Stevens, Dr. Allan, Dr. Tyre, the Siren concept character, and the Super Tank a.k.a. S-TNK character. Valve owns the generic plot of the game L4D that is the zombie apocalypse induced by mutated rabies, however I own the subplot of this story, including the conspiracy theory involving a third party pharmaceutical company, base Echo Rho Tau, and any other crap that Valve can't directly take credit for. :-)**_

_Mature Content Warning: This story contains violence, like really bad nasty stuff with blood, guts, gore, death, and kitties crying. It should not be read by those under 18, or those who can't stand the sight of blood, guts, gore, death, or wet pussies. You have been warned! It also contains sexual themes, though you'll have to look pretty dang hard to find 'em in this chapter._

Author's Notes: Well, last chapter portion was posted in March, and here we are in May. This is by far and away the longest chapter yet, and I hope it's worth the wait for everyone. This will be the last chapter (maybe.. hah hah!), so if you've been holding your applause until the end, this is the time to make some noise in the form of a review! C'mon folks, I think this story is worth 300+ reviews, don't you? Show me the love!

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Chapter 16 – The Sacrifice: Prelude to Rayford (Part 2)

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Louis let out a sigh of relief as the forest gave way to a wide open space. The remains of a small train maintenance yard, barely illuminated by the rapidly setting sun, came into view of the truck's headlights. The perimeter fence was badly mangled and bent, no doubt the handiwork of dozens of determined common infected. Spotting a ripped section of the chain link, Louis floored the accelerator and tore through the weakened spot.

He never saw the pothole just on the other side.

"SHIT!" Louis cut the wheel and slammed the brakes as the truck suddenly bottomed out, but it was too late. The truck tipped on two wheels, holding for a half second before falling over completely. The sheer weight of the frame caused the cab to buckle and the safety-glass windshield shattered. Louis fell into the driver door, the handle digging into his side as Zoey fell on top of him.

"Aaggh! Fuck me..." Zoey swore.

"Rrggh... really? Right now?" Louis said with a half laugh, kicking out the rest of the windshield that hadn't shattered.

"Yeah lover boy, right after I put my rib back in place," she retorted, climbing out. Louis was right behind her, brushing bits of glass off his dress shirt. The two quickly looked each other over for serious injury, though neither of them looked much worse for the wear.

Both survivors froze, a sudden panic rising that everyone in the back likely hadn't fared as well as them.

The college girl and the systems analyst hurried around the truck to find the cargo crates scattered around the truck. The rest of the group had fallen into a pile; thankfully the crates had missed every one of them. Zoey was just about to ask if everyone was alright until some rather familiar swearing assaulted her ears.

"Rrrghh... get your finger outta my ass!" Francis swore.

"Mmmph. That's my _nose_! So get _your_ ass off of _my_ face!" Xavier shouted muffled, grappling with the biker who was still struggling to get up from the mess.

Heather growled, feeling someone groping her butt. "Whoever has the overactive hands better - EEP!" Heather squeaked as said palms with rather long fingernails ejected her off their owner. Heather barely caught her balance as she landed, looking over her shoulder to see Eris glaring at her she got to her feet.

"I'm getting' too old for this horseshit," Bill grumbled, picking himself up and rubbing his head. The fall had definitely rung his bell a bit; he was having trouble maintaining his balance and his vision was wavering. He took another step and nearly fell flat on his face, but something soft and familiar broke his fall.

"Biilll... huuurrt?" Eris asked, placing her claws on his shoulders to steady him.

The war vet got an unsolicited close up of the gray goddess' generous bosom, though he didn't mind the view. Eris looked her lover over with a scrutinous eye while he sized her up in turn. Her dress was dirty, and part of the skirt portion had torn up the side of one leg, but she appeared unscathed otherwise.

"I've taken worse whacks to the head than that. I'll be fine, but what about _you_?" Bill asked, trying to brush off the fall, though his head was still swimming a bit. Even though his gray goddess could take a lot more punishment than him, he was still more worried about her than his own welfare.

Eris felt another smile spreading across her face. Bill's concern for her well being never ceased to make her heart flutter. She loved that about him; the way he could stir her up with a simple gesture of kindness that was likely only second nature to him, yet so foreign to her. It was cute that he tried to act like he was practically invincible just for the sake of everyone else. She knew he was simply trying to play the role of a strong leader for the group. It was thoughtful, a little vain, and very foolish, but she loved that about him too.

She loved everything about him.

The war vet cocked an eyebrow at the dreamy-eyed siren. "Eris... are you sure you're... ?"

The sudden sensation of her soft lips on his cut the question short. Bill stiffened in surprise at the sudden affection, but he recovered quickly as their arms enveloped each other. The old vet could never get over how his gray goddess could so pleasantly catch him off guard. With a reluctant sigh, the siren broke the kiss, a little too soon in Bill's opinion, though he didn't have any time to think about it as Eris squeezed his shoulders and pressed her forehead against his, going nose to nose with him.

"Iiiii'm fiiiiine," the gray goddess whispered, still holding him tight.

"Hey love birds," Francis said. "Lets move! We've got a train to catch!"

Bill cleared his throat, trying to play off the moment, but that only made Eris giggle more. The pair took up the rear as the group traversed the abandoned yard. The war vet's eyes wandered to the gentle sway of the siren's hips and bosom as she kept her steady gait.

"You really know how to throw off my concentration," Bill whispered, smiling at his lover.

The gray goddess looked at him confused at first, until she saw where his wandering eyes were lingering. She answered with a smirk and a soft purr before promptly latching onto his arm. The pair looked like they were out for a walk in the park compared to fighting for their lives in a zombie apocalypse.

Tall grasses poking through numerous cracks in the concrete brushed at their ankles, as though trying to grab onto the survivors who hurried to inspect each repair shed. Two sets of train tracks extended southward from the center of the train yard out the main entrance area. At the center of the yard was a large rotating circular platform, bisected by a section of track that moved with it. More sets of tracks, mostly overgrown with weeds, extended out from the rotating platform, each leading to a huge repair bay. Each bay was two stories tall, and laid out in something of a half-circle around the edge of the train yard. However, most of them were caved in or destroyed. One shed had smoke pouring out of its open bay and a large hole in its roof, no doubt a fire that ran out of fuel to burn.

Nearly every repair bay was open and vacant, save the closest one to the overturned truck at the edge of the "half-circle." The bay doors were still closed, a sign of hope that one more train was left in the station. The group approached the side of the shed where a standard double door allowed access. To the right was a high-stacked pile of what looked like old propane tanks, dwarfed by a massive fuel tank with a huge pipe going through the side of the wall simply marked: DIESEL. Scattered beneath the tank were several old fuel cans, most of which had surface rust from their exposure to the elements, much like the double doors that stood between the survivors and their ride out of this hell hole.

"Here's hoping," Malory said as he pulled on the rusted door. It creaked and groaned, refusing to budge. The burly sergeant yanked hard on the handle, throwing his weight into every tug. With a loud snap-ping of metal, the handle broke off in his hand and he fell on his ass.

"God damn it! Looks like we'll have to find another..."

Eris causally walked over to the rusted door and shoved her claws into the destroyed handle. The door metal groaned and squeaked as the siren squeezed the door by her own makeshift handle. With one hard tug, she yanked the door open, releasing the stagnant air riddled with rust dust and the smell of petrol.

Xavier simply shook his head. "Your girlfriend sure is full of surprises," he said to the war vet.

"That's my line," Francis quipped, though the sergeant didn't understand. Eris scrunched her nose at the acrid smell of old fuel and rusted metal, then let out several cute-sounding sneezes as she backed away to hug on Bill, much preferring his masculine scent over the musty air.

"Not to mention cute..." Heather started.

"That's my line," Zoey said, cutting her off.

"I don't get it," the private said, scratching her head.

"C'mon guys, there will be plenty of time to explain the inside jokes once we're headed south," Louis said, turning on his flashlight as he entered the shed. Everyone coughed a bit at the rancid air, the random particles dancing in their flashlight beams as the scanned the inside. Larger than life, a huge locomotive engine sat on the tracks in the bay, the nose facing left towards the closed bay doors. Fate smiled upon them as the assorted colors of various ammo boxes, pills, and throwing items caught their attention from a nearby work table.

"Grabbin' pills," Louis said, swiping a bottle of pain killers on the table.

"I hate ammo piles," Francis said, pocketing some extra shotgun shells and magnum rounds.

"'Scuse me? You _hate _finding extra ammo?" Lenhart asked.

"Yeah, because every damn time there's an ammo pile, there's a horde, or a Tank, or _something_ to make us spend all the ammo we just found," the biker retorted.

"We're almost out of here!" The college student squealed as she ran to the locomotive door. She grunted as she yanked on the door to the engineer room several times, but it wouldn't budge. She growled in frustration, punching the door with her fist. "God damn it! No, we're _not _being stopped by yet _another _locked door! Eris!" Zoey yelled for the infected woman's assistance with her uncanny ability to "unlock" doors.

Bill put a hand on his lover's shoulder, stopping her. "Don't, sweetheart."

"What? Why?" Zoey asked.

"Kid, if that train wasn't built over 50 years ago, it won't run if we break into it. The train probably needs power before that door will open, and it's most likely got a safety feature that will stop the train from running if the door doesn't shut... or is missing.

Zoey groaned. "So now what?"

"Look at this," Malory said, walking over to a large fueling machine with a dusty console near the rear of the locomotive. The pumping machine was nearly as tall as the train, and took up a sizable corner of the back of the repair shed. The others gathered around as he blew dust off the screen. Fingers crossed, he pressed the power button.

The screen lit up with:

DIESEL TRAIN FUEL & DIAGNOSTICS ver. 1.2

SELECT AN OPTION:

1. Status

2. Fuel

3. Engage Train

"There's no keyboard," Lenhart said.

"Must be a touch screen," Malory said. He pressed "1" on the screen, leaving a "clean" fingerprint in the dirt.

RUNNING DIAGNOSTIC REPORT FROM TRAIN COMPUTER... PLEASE WAIT...

After a few minutes which felt like several hours to the anxious group, the screen displayed:

TRAIN DIAGNOSTIC REPORT NOMINAL. NO ANOMALIES DETECTED.

"So this train is ready to go?" Zoey asked, shooting a quick glance at the opened door as a few leaves blew in.

"Lets find out," Malory said. Everyone held their breath as he pushed "3."

DENIED. INSUFFICIENT FUEL.

"Okay..." the sergeant mumbled and pressed "2."

TRAIN FUEL TANK STATUS: 3%

FUEL REQUIRED FOR FULL TANK: 97%

WARNING! FUELING WILL COMPLETE IN APPROXIMATELY 10 MINUTES AND CANNOT BE INTERRUPTED.

SMOKING WHILE FUELING IS IN PROGRESS IS STRICTLY PROHIBITED.

WHEN FUELING IS COMPLETE, TRAIN WILL MOVE TO FIRST SWITCH OUTSIDE OF BAY AREA.. OPERATOR CONTROL WILL BE UNAVAILABLE UNTIL TRAIN IS AT SWITCH.

BEGIN FUEL OPERATION? YES NO

"Train will move to the first switch..." Louis mumbled.

"There's a switch for the tracks that allows incoming or outgoing trains to get back onto the main track, or go to another bay." Malory said. "I guess the train's 'autopilot' will move the train to that switch."

"So lets do this, the sun is almost set," Francis said, now barely able to see his hands in front of his face, save for the light from the terminal.

"Remember what happened at the truck stop?" Bill said. The other three immune survivors nodded. "That damn generator caused one helluva racket and that was just a small one to power a mechanic's lift. This thing however..." he said, gesturing to the large pump machinery next to the rear of the train.

"Nooooisseeee?" Eris asked.

"Yeah, and a lot of it I bet," Heather said.

"They're gonna swarm at the racket this thing is gonna make," Louis said.

"I hate noisy generators," Francis said.

"Let's set up outside," Bill decided. "Sergeant, wait for my signal."

Malory nodded and stood by the console as the rest filed outside. The sun was almost completely set. This fight was going to be a lot more dangerous in the dark.

"Ready?" Bill asked.

"Born ready," Francis said, looking down the barrel of his hand cannon.

"Damn right," Louis said, pulling back the bolt on his M16.

"Let's do this," Zoey quipped, eying the fence and tree line through her scope.

"Reeaaaddyy," Eris stood in a combative stance and flickered her claws, the sound echoing over the empty yard.

"I'm ready," Lenhart said.

"Okay then..." Bill said, eyes narrowed. It was now or never. "Hit it!"

Malory selected "yes" and the machinery roared to life. Flood lights stationed around the outside of the repair bay flickered on, lighting the whole place up. To Zoey it was like some futuristic gladiatorial arena.

"_That makes us the gladiators," _Zoey thought.

With a collective roar of fury, the horde answered the call to battle.

"_And here come the lions."_

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Dr. Allan and Alexis ran in a fast jog to the south entrance of the base, accompanied by a handful of soldiers. The air was relatively quiet except for the shouts of other soldiers barking orders to their squad mates. The base had a siren alarm, but once it was learned that the infected were attracted to loud noise, it was disabled.

"Almost there..." Dr. Allan puffed as they rounded another building on one of the side walks. As they turned the corner, their jaws fell open.

The south entrance gate was pried apart at the center, the metal bent and buckled as though something had rammed its way through. To the right a ways off was one of the medical buildings that housed a secret access to the underground lab. The front doors were missing and the surrounding frame destroyed as though they'd been blown off with a grenade, though there wasn't any scorch marks. However, the bloodied remains of several soldiers scattered about certainly made it look like a bomb had gone off.

"What the hell?" Dr. Allan whispered.

"Sir, I... I found the doors," a soldier said in a shaky voice. "You might wanna come take a look at this."

The shaken doctor and his assistant approached the destroyed building, a healthy distance away from the gate. As they closed the distance, the acrid stench of decay filled the air.

"Oh my god," Alexis said, pinching her nose at the smell. She'd seen some gruesome sights since this outbreak, but she'd never been exposed to a massacre. Half of a door lay on the ground covered in blood, the other half imbedded in a torso that was barely hanging on to its pelvis. Legs and arms were scattered but lacked any sort of muscle or flesh; it was as though they'd been picked clean. Guts and entrails were scattered about, and a mass of flies were already feasting on what remained of the "buffet."

"What... what are your orders Dr. Allan?" The soldier asked, trying not to show his fear.

"Get another squad and a repair team here immediately!" Dr. Allan said, trying to maintain his calm. "We need that gate sealed! Who knows how many infected may have made their way through. In the meantime, your squad is to guard the entrance and comb the surrounding area inside."

The soldier saluted and called reinforcements on the radio while his squad took up their positions around the destroyed gate.

Dr. Allan turned to his assistant, her chocolate complexion looking decidedly pale. "Alexis, did you give Bill the other radio?"

"Huh? Uh.. yes." She said, shaking her head once and turning away from the bloody massacre.

"Get a hold of them right now," the CMO said, a grave tone in his voice. "I have a feeling they're in for a very big..."

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"TANK!" Louis shouted, dropping another empty clip from his M-16. More jabbering infected were swarming towards the haggard group right behind the muscle-bound freak. Louis winced as he slammed yet another fresh clip home; he'd taken a hunter's pounce earlier and it drove his shoulder into the ground pretty hard. Thankfully Eris yanked the hooded killer off of him before it could start tearing into his flesh. He cringed when the gray-skinned woman impaled the hunter through his back, her deadly claws burst from his attacker's chest and nearly caught his face in the process. And the way she simply whipped that hunter like a rag doll, tossing him at a group of charging commons... well thank god she was on their side.

"Snap out of it 'white collar'," Francis said, slapping the system's analyst on the shoulder. The two men scattered just in time as a chunk of concrete collided with the ground where they once stood.

"This is the longest ten minutes of my life," Zoey said, slashing another commoner's head from his shoulders. Blood sprayed from the decapitated body before it collapsed, blasting her with yet another coat of blood. She could still smell the rancid rotting stench of Boomer bile on her clothes, even though she was covered in what felt like buckets of infected blood from slicing up the resulting horde. The fat bugger had dropped off the top of the repair shed and almost flattened the college girl with his suicide dive. The others moved well out of the way when they heard the bloated thing's signature groan, but Zoey was a little bit too late. She was lucky she hadn't been squashed where she stood, but having to blindly keep dozens of angry common infected away was almost as bad. Fortunately Eris had her back, and the two women slashed and hacked at every screeching thing running at them.

"Jesus these things are a pain in the ass," Malory swore as he and Lenhart riddled the Tank's back with bullets. Malory pulled a grenade from his vest, lobbing it at the muscled freak. He'd been fortunate to stumble upon a stockpile of them from one of the crates when a Tank's punch sent him barreling into one, smashing it open. None of the other survivors felt comfortable with them, but he and Lenhart had no trouble putting them to use.

The explosion stumbled the Tank for a second, but surprisingly it ignored him, instead charging the elderly war vet and their infected comrade. Bill could only shake his head as he kept his gun barrel lit up; he seemed to have a knack for attracting the big, ugly bastards. Eris howled angrily but held her position by Bill, knowing that rushing the behemoth would be suicidal only because of all the friendly fire from her fellow survivors would likely cut her down first.

The sound of coughing from behind caught her attention as she and the war vet slowly backpedaled towards the building. Another smoker had his one good eye set on the gray-haired survivor, and with a violent spasm his tongue shot towards his prey, but the angry siren slashed the tongue mid air before it could reach her lover. The smokey infected shrieked in pain and tried to withdraw, but Eris had plenty of practice in dealing with the lanky cowards. She grabbed the slippery tongue with both hands and yanked like a fisherman would reel in a prize catch, pulling the smoker right off the roof towards them.

"Damn it this monster just won't..." Bill started, but the mixed sound of wheezing and screaming cut him off. Everyone watched a smoker flying through the air like a plummeting kite with Eris holding his tongue like string, as he crashed right onto the Tank, dying with a cloud of green smoke. Eris ran into the smog, obscured from everyone. Only her coughing could be heard, then the sound of tearing flesh and snapping bone as the Tank gurgled, its life painfully ended.

"God frigging damn," Xavier said. Eris emerged like a warrior goddess with blood swaths haphazard over her face and crimson splotches all about her body. Skewered on one hand was the Tank's head. She flicked her wrist a couple times before the meaty skull without a jaw slid off her claws. Eris returned to her lover's side, stealing a quick kiss from his cheek before returning to a combative stance. It was almost scary how quickly she could shift from being an efficient killing machine to a lovesick woman who wouldn't hurt a fly.

"_Almost scary..." _Xavier thought with a smile as he stared at her, before a jab in the ribs broke his thought.

"Careful soldier, she's already got a boyfriend," Heather said, elbowing him playfully. The sergeant coughed once and cleared his throat, but the petite private shot him a wry smile.

"I hate long fuel-up times," Francis shouted, loading more shells into his auto-shotgun. The infected storm seemed to have halted, bringing an eerie sense of cautious optimism with it. It was like the eye of a hurricane, baiting those stupid enough to believe it over to drop their guard before being swept up again.

Bill's radio beeped, and he nearly jumped out of his jacket.

"Shit..." he mumbled, fumbling for the radio. "This is Overbeck, over."

"Bill! This is Alexis... Listen... Something... _terrible _happened here at the base."

"Terrible?" Bill asked as the others gathered around. "Can't be worse than the shit we're fighting out here."

"No Bill, I'm serious," the nervous radio voice of the ebony R.N. replied. "Something huge came out of the lab. It tore apart several soldiers then ripped through the solid metal gate at the south entrance."

The war vet felt a cold void in the pit of his gut and tried to stifle the nervous urge that threatened to eject what little bile was left in his stomach.

"Alexis, are you saying this thing, whatever it is, is after us?" Malory asked.

In answer, the deafening roar of something louder than a Tank roaring through a bull horn echoed throughout the abandoned yard. The ground began to shake and the sound of old metal twisting and creaking followed the frightening roar.

"What was that?" Alexis asked.

"I think we've got company," Bill said. "Call you back after we greet it."

Eris' eyes narrowed as she focused on something unseen in the tree line outside the perimeter of the fence. The survivors couldn't see anything in the darkness, but the infected woman could make out the infrared outline of a huge creature, running on all fours like a gorilla, and coming straight for them.

She whimpered and pointed, just as the charging creature exploded into view from the tree line and barreled right through the torn part of the fence.

"Holy mother of God," Bill mumbled.

The creature stopped just in front of the dead Tank and stood up on both legs, bringing its full height and massive proportions to bear.

The rest of the group stared up in frightened awe. Towering over them was a creature straight out of their worst nightmares. It stood thrice the height of a Tank, with red tinged skin and muscles bulging on every part of it's body. It was hard to tell if the red coloring was from blood flushed to the skin surface, or the splattered remains of its many victims. Jutting from random angles all over its body were large segments of bone which looked like haphazardly arranged scales. The arms and legs were almost completely covered with these scales, though the chest and stomach had maybe half the amount of "armor." The shoulder blades had extended beyond the skin, sticking out like armored shoulder pads on the huge creature. The only parts that seemed to be bare were areas near the joints; the wrists, neck, ankles, knees, and groin. The head was bare of any hair, though numerous small horns of bone fragment jutted from the bald head. Its eyes were open so far one could make out almost the entire eyeball, its nose was gone, save the two breather holes, and the teeth... dear god there were more sharp spikes jutting from this thing's maw than a great white shark.

"What... the hell is that?" Louis shouted.

"Tyyyrre!" Eris screamed.

The creature brought one massive foot down on the dead Tank, crushing it like a squishy grape before roaring its challenge at the group.

And just like that, the battle began.

The thing that was once Tyre put its foot beneath the headless Tank and kicked it towards the group like a soccer ball, scattering the survivors.

Sgt. Malory, being closest to the center, took a diving roll to the left to dodge the airborne carcass while the others scrambled in every other direction. The combat trained soldier was first to spring to his feet and unload M-16 on the overgrown doctor. The other survivors followed suit, all of them laying out everything they had. The sound of gunfire echoed through the yard, but worse was the "pinging" sound of deflected bullets, most of which harmlessly ricocheted of Tyre's armor-plated skin, though some chipped it away as he closed the distance on Francis and Heather.

"We're just pissing him off," Francis said, watching the buckshot from his Benelli M4 barely make a dent in Tyre's chest. Heather was aiming for Tyre's face with her SMG, letting out small bursts of fire, but her weapon wasn't meant for accuracy. Xavier's M16 was more effective, though his shots weren't doing enough damage.

Tyre let out a guttural laugh as he ripped up part of the concrete in his massive hands. Xavier's eyes went wide, thinking briefly of the time he'd been hit by a Tank's "concrete missile" and how it had damn near knocked him out. The concrete slab that Tyre held over his head was three times the size, and right now he was focused on Francis and Heather.

He was going to flatten them where they stood.

"Any ideas?" Lenhart asked.

"Don't get squashed," Francis said as he backpedaled away. The other survivors were circling behind Tyre, firing at his legs with the same results. A stray shot found its way behind Tyre's knee, and Bill's eyes perked at the fresh blood flowing from the wound, followed by Tyre growling and turning around to face the new threat.

"Aim for the joints!" Bill shouted.

Tyre turned to throw the concrete slab at the larger group, but the survivors in front focused on Tyre's unarmored wrists. The onslaught of metal pelting his exposed wrists caused him to drop the slab on himself, part of it catching his shoulder as it broke. For a moment the juggernaut looked stunned, but he recovered quickly enough.

Tyre stomped towards Bill's group, his footfalls resonating beneath the earth. Francis and Heather rushed behind the beast, firing at the back of his knees and at his ankles. Tyre roared in pain, distracted yet again between the two groups of pathetic humans who's shots were doing a little bit more than just tickling him now. The survivors surrounded him but at a relatively safe distance, pelting his exposed skin with hot lead. Seeing an opening, Eris charged Tyre's feet and slashed at his knee, the large gouge allowing fresh blood to flow freely.

Tyre roared in frustration, unable to see the attacker directly below him. He both fists down in a hammer blow, blindly striking the ground between his feet. Everyone stumbled from the resulting shock wave, including Eris who'd staggered back and into his line of sight.

"Eris look out!"

A red blur obscured the gray woman's vision before she was suddenly sent flying backwards. Tyre swatted her aside like a bothersome fly before returning his focus on the staggering war veteran. Bill's jaw fell open as his lover sailed through the air before crashing into the ground like a rock.

The old soldier felt his temper rising. He'd grown quite tired of seeing his lover slapped around by muscled freaks. He fired at Tyre's face, most of the bullets reflecting harmlessly off his skull. Tyre slapped Bill next, sending him barreling into Zoey and Louis who were used to standing in a close group when fighting. The war vet felt like his bell had been rung, ripped from its housing, and thrown out of the tower with that hit. He'd barely begun to stand before clawed hands helped him up. Bill saw his friends groaning around him. Louis and Zoey were down, but not out. He had to...

A sudden explosion beneath the juggernaut's feet broke the war vet's train of thought. Tyre roared and turned towards Sgt. Malory, who was backpedaling towards the repair bay while preparing to let fly with another grenade. Bill said a silent thanks for the distraction as he and Eris helped their fallen comrades up.

"C'mon you son of a bitch!" Malory yelled to Tyre. The monster dropped to all fours, growling low in his throat like a pit bull about to charge. Xavier stared him down, then beckoned with one finger.

Tyre roared, barreling towards Malory on all fours, but the sergeant held his ground.

"Xavier, move!" Bill yelled.

Xavier fingered the pulled grenade pin in his fingers.

"_One... two..."_

"Move!" Zoey yelled, firing into Tyre's exposed rump hoping to distract him.

Xavier tensed, but held his ground.

"_Three... fooourr..."_

"Xavier!" Heather screamed.

"_NOW!"_

In the last heartbeat before he'd be flattened, Xavier dropped his armed grenade at his feet and dove _towards – _he must have been off his nut to try something so ballsy – _towards _the charging tyrant, executing a diving roll that sent him beneath the creature, safely rolling between his arms and legs, just narrowly avoiding being trampled. He popped right up on his feet, in awe of himself that he'd pulled off such a brash maneuver.

Tyre grunted in confusion and prepared to turn around, but the grenade detonating beneath his feet combined with his forward momentum sent him crashing head first into the wall of the repair shed. He hit the wall so hard the building shook. With a groan, the mad doctor fell flat on his back.

Xavier gasped, heaving every breath. He'd stared death in the red-skinned, snarling, deformed face, and _lived._ Lived... _and_ he'd knocked the bastard out.

The next thing he felt was a harsh slap to the face, followed by a bone crushing hug.

"Urk... Heather what the..." he gasped as she squeezed him.

"Damn it Xavier! You scared me to death!" She shouted, keeping him in a tight hug. "You ever do something that stupid again and I swear I'll feed you to the zombie hordes myself."

"Talk about balls..." Francis said, wiping some sweat from his brow.

"What the hell did you do that for?" Louis asked as he and the others limped over to them, staring at the still form of Tyre for a moment.

"Well I... uh... hell, did you have a better idea to take him down? Our bullets just bounced off the bastard!" Xavier said, taking another breath now that Heather had let go of him.

Bill looked over the others with a grim frown. One punch from Tyre felt like he'd been hit by a truck. It was a miracle he hadn't been incapacitated, but the old vet attributed that to Zoey and Louis breaking his fall. Eris was the only one who wasn't hurt nearly as bad the others, but even she winced a little as they regrouped. She had a purple splotch over one cheek that was starting to swell up.

"Heal up guys," Francis said, using his spare first aid kit on Louis. The dark man in turn patched up Zoey, who then healed Bill, but when Bill tried to use his kit on Eris, she shrugged it away.

"Don't you start acting like the stubborn one now, sweetheart," Bill said, using some anesthetic wipes on his lover's cheek. She hissed a little, but the pain was already fading away and the swelling was receding.

"Iiii... fiiinee," she whimpered as an arc of pain raced up her side.

"First to aid, last to die," the war vet said, reciting an old saying from his army days as he tended to his lover. She resisted at first, but Bill's stern glare put a stop to that. The war vet didn't understand why she was insistent on not being healed, but he settled for using only a little gauze and anesthetic wipes to patch her up; her strengthened form and more dense bones allowed her to take much more punishment than her stature would suggest.

"Thhaaank yooou Biill," she sighed. Eris knew the other survivors were fragile when compared to her. She also had a feeling that she healed faster than her comrades, though she didn't understand that was due to her viral-strengthened body. She knew Bill only meant well, but she didn't want her lover to waste healing her. Tyre's punch hurt, but it looked like it hurt Bill a lot more. The gray goddess wouldn't allow her soldier to put her well being before his own ever again. He'd already done that once, and nearly got his throat torn out when trying to stop that lust-driven hunter.

Louis huffed, "Let's hope he stays down long enough for that train to-"

"Grrrrggh."

Xavier groaned and turned around as a shadow fell over him, blocking out one of the floodlights.

"Fuck my life..."

Tyre rose to his feet, teetering a little bit as he tried to maintain his balance, but it wore off quickly. He roared and pounded his chest, having finally shaken away the stars.

"Break time's over!" Zoey yelled, firing at the angry behemoth. The rest of the survivors backpedaled away from the hulking mass while keeping distance from each other so that the charging freak couldn't attack more than one of them at a time.

Tyre growled, watching them all distance themselves from him and each other while pelting him with those irritating bullets. They were expecting him to charge at least one of them, while the rest would gun the hell out of him when his attention was diverted. He'd been foolish to rush the humans; they were small enough to dodge his charge. And the concrete he could throw would only work if he could corner them. The group was expecting him to be brutish and stupid, like the MR1 TNK.

But Tyre wasn't an an ordinary Tank. He wasn't just some muscle head who relied only on raw strength. He was the spearhead of a new age, a new order for the entire world united under MR-1. Incredibly powerful, yet vastly intelligent.

It was time to bring some brains to this fight.

Tyre spotted the large stack of propane tanks next to the diesel fueling tank. He rushed over to the building in no less than a few strides, then picked up one of the white propane canisters. A sadistic grin spread across his tooth-filled maw as he casually tossed the canister in the air the way one would a baseball before throwing it.

"What's he doing?" Zoey shouted, taking aim at cracks forming in his armor.

With a roar, Tyre pitched one of the propane tanks at a tree near the fence line. The canister exploded on impact and set the tree ablaze.

"Uh oh..."

Tyre laughed, an inhumanly deep chortle as he picked up another canister and hurled it straight for Zoey. The canister connected and the college girl felt her breath stolen and her feet off the ground as the canister collided with her abdomen, sending her flying.

"NOOOO! ZOEY!" Louis yelled. The canister hadn't exploded, thank God, but the sheer force could have killed her if Tyre had caught her a little higher up. Tyre roared and threw another, this one aimed for the dark skinned systems analyst. Louis fired his M16, blasting the canister with a stray shot, but too close. The explosion sent him off his feet, flipping over and over before slamming into the dirt. He skidded on his back several feet away from impact, right next to the downed college girl.

Francis wiped sweat from his brow before firing yet another round from his magnum. He got lucky, catching Tyre in his finger, effectively distracting him before he could hurl another propane tank. That small victory did little to deter his growing anxiety; this fight was turning sour. They'd done some damage to the huge doctor, but he still didn't look close to going down. They needed something bigger...

The tattooed biker grinned when he spotted the gas cans scattered beneath the diesel fuel tank. The fueling tank probably wouldn't explode just from that, Diesel had a much higher ignition point than regular gas...

But the huge pile of propane canisters next to it react a bit less favorably to a sudden fire. And the diesel tank _would _explode from that. It'd be a big enough boom to send that muscled fucker to the damn moon!

"Hey Doc!" Francis shouted as the beast turned towards his mocking call. "You like explosives?" The biker took aim...

"Francis don't!" Bill shouted, sprinting to the biker.

"The hell? Why not?"

Xavier started, "You blow up those propane tanks and you'll stop the fueling proc-"

BOOM!

The war vet had leaped in the air, was about to slam Francis' hand down before he could pull the trigger, but he wasn't fast enough. Bill and Francis were sent right off their feet from the explosion. Xavier and Heather covered their faces, expecting a wave of fire to wash over them.

But the diesel tank was still intact.

"What the..?" Heather started.

Xavier and Heather saw nothing but the black scorch marks of another of Tyre's hurled propane canisters that marked the spot where Francis and Bill stood only moments ago. The two survivors had flown straight back into their overturned vehicle.

They weren't moving.

"Biiilll!" Eris screamed as she rushed to help them.

"Son of a bitch!" Xavier roared, bringing his rifle to bear. Eris was fast, but he would need to distract Tyre long enough for her to help the downed survivors. Malory aimed for Tyre's face again, more just to keep him occupied than do damage. A lucky shot caught Tyre right in the eye, sending him staggering off balance as he clutched his face. Rage clouded his mind again as half his vision turned red, his one good eye narrowing on the puny human. The juggernaut ripped up another slab of concrete and eyeed the dark-haired sergeant. He'd squash him like the annoying insect he was!

Heather felt her heart in her throat. Her SMG wasn't powerful enough to redirect Tyre's rage fit. Xavier would never be able to dodge that 500 pound concrete missile. He'd be killed! Crushed on the spot!

"Nooooo!"

Time slowed down. Xavier could actually count out the shells ejecting from his rifle as his fired at Tyre. He could see several shots hit their mark on the juggernaut. The scream of his lover was hardly audible over the adrenaline rush he was under. All that mattered was pumping as much lead as possible into the huge fucker as he could. He roared trying to bolster his confidence as Tyre hurled the concrete right at him.

In the way most people see their life flash before their eyes just before they die, Xavier saw his blur by in an instant when he realized this would be his last act. He shut his eyes, not wanting to see the concrete take his head off...

The burly sergeant flew off his feet, toppling end over end. It was surprising how little pain there was. He thought being hit by enough concrete to fill a cement mixer would hurt a lot more than...

But he wasn't crushed. In fact, he wasn't even hurt. He stood up confused. It almost felt like he'd been knocked to the side instead of straight back.

Xavier saw the beast roar triumphantly as though he'd scored a kill. What kill, though? He'd obviously missed, but then why was he...

The sergeant looked to where he'd been standing, the concrete slab having created a small crater in his place.

And sticking out from beneath that slab was a bloody, BDU covered arm.

"Heather...?"

Hazel eyes went wide as the realization struck.

"_No... NO! Heather!" _Xavier's mind snapped as everything ran through it at once like a runaway train. _"Why did you push me? I would've been fine andnowyou'redeadohmygodshe'sdeadshesdead! SHE'S DEAD!"_

This screaming cacophony of voices in Sgt. Malory's head were silenced when Tyre half roared, half laughed, _taunting _him!

Xavier threw all caution to the wind and recklessly rushed the behemoth, emptying his clip into Tyre's legs. He'd lost not one, but _two _of the women in his life to this God damn virus. The first an innocent victim to circumstance, the second a selfless sacrifice to save his life. A life he would have gladly given up if it meant she could live hers instead. This wasn't how it was supposed to be.

Tyre would PAY!

"C'mon you bastard!" He roared, challenging the creature towering over him. He slammed another clip home and fired at Tyre's damaged abdomen. Much of the bone armor he sported had been chipped and cracked from stray shots. If he could weaken it a little more...

Tyre swept down and snatched him in a death grip, squeezing him as he brought him to eye level. Malory could feel his bones crushing under the pressure, his breath being pushed out of him. It was in that moment he was angry with himself for giving into his rage. Had he kept his cool, he and the others could have beaten this tyrant.

Now he knew he was done for, but by God he wouldn't go down without a fight. His fingers wriggled beneath his own jacket in the bone crushing grip, feeling the familiar lumps of metal strapped to his chest.

"Rrrggh... Tyyrre..." Xavier choked out. The mad doctor paused for a moment, letting up on the pressure.

"Have a blast..." the sergeant said, wriggling one hand free from Tyre's grip. Half a dozen grenade pins fell from Malory's fingers.

Tyre let go just before all six of Sgt. Malory's grenades sent the sergeant to meet his maker.

.

* * *

.

"Biillll! Geett uup!" Eris shouted, helping her lover rise back into the fight.

"Most of this blood ain't mine," Bill slurred. God he felt awful. The war vet quickly popped some painkillers to take the edge off, his vision sharpening for a split second as they coursed through his veins.

And what he saw made his heart sink.

He and Eris watched Sgt. Malory get snatched up by the huge tyrant, and a moment later Tyre dropped the sergeant before he exploded in a shower of metal and gore. Shrapnel and bone flew everywhere, most of it ripping into Tyre's torso. Several fragments hit the diesel tank, its contents beginning to leak. But worse, the gasoline canisters below had been struck, and the fire was beginning to grow.

"We've got to help the others!" The war vet said, feeling his bones ache. God he hoped that train was almost finished fueling.

Francis eyes narrowed as a familiar face rushed to his aid, wrinkled hands with a damn death grip hauling him to his feet. "You're not done yet! Get up!" The war vet yelled. "C'mon Francis! Snap out of it!"

"Rrrghh... Christ this hurts like hell," the biker slurred, spitting fresh blood on the ground.

A deafening roar caught his attention. Tyre was still alive, and he looked _pissed._

"Heelllp! I'm in trouble!" Louis shouted. A mob of common zombies swarmed to him.

"Get Louis and Zoey!" The war vet shouted. Grunting, the biker sprinted towards his comrades who felt like they were miles away to his injured body.

Bill turned his attention to their tireless nemesis. Tyre roared again, his terrifying battle cry not so much now that he was significantly injured. He tried to drop to all fours again to charge, but the sharp pain in his gut from the hundreds of bullets and metal fragments littered throughout his body stopped him. Instead he settled for ripping up part of the concrete slab he'd hurled earlier. He couldn't even haul the whole thing up, he was weakened that much. Tyre nearly stumbled throwing the slab, his throw falling short. Bill and Eris shielded their eyes as the concrete shattered only a few feet away, errant chunks flying past. The dust cleared to reveal the angry tyrant stomping towards them, determined to finish the survivors even if it took his last breath.

"I could use some help over here!" Francis shouted, blasting the growing number of commoners attracted to the helpless survivors laying on the ground. The biker was having no trouble holding his own, but if he waited too long to help...

On the other hand, if Tyre reached them first, everyone would be dead. They _had _to hold him off!

Eris stole a quick look in the direction of her comrades. The blue aura that surrounded Francis was dimmed, as though he was on his last legs. The burly man was tiring as he cracked another commoner with the butt of his shotgun. But the faint red auras of Louis and Zoey had Eris worried. The dark man aura was even weaker looking than the biker. All he could do was lay on his back and fire one of his pistols at another commoner rushing to pound on him. But her petite female friend's glow was almost invisible in the darkness...

She wasn't moving.

Bill raised his rifle, about to crack off another shot until his golden-eyed goddess filled his sights.

"Eris what are you...?"

"Gooooo!" The siren pleaded in her singing voice, pushing her lover in the direction of their comrades. The war vet couldn't believe she was thinking of tackling Tyre herself, even injured he could still kill any of them... even her. The though of his lover dying selflessly just to "protect" him was almost insulting. Hurt as he was – God he couldn't remember when he'd been beaten so hard either – he wasn't _that _bad, was he?

"I'm old, not crippled!" Bill yelled, holding his ground.

"Gooooooo!" She screamed at him, her voice no longer sounding like an angel singing, but like a banshee shrieking.

This was it. Eris was going to hold Tyre off long enough for Bill to help his friends, even though it almost certainly spelled her doom. Through his military career the old soldier had seen death first hand, watching brave men die alongside him. The only way to get through the battle alive was not to think about the _person _who died. Mourning was saved for after the fight. And as more and more battles went under a veteran's belt, eventually they just went numb to the thought of death. Soldiers fought, soldiers died. Move on or move out of the way.

But Bill felt plenty at the thought of his friends and his lover dying. No one here had signed up for this shit, not even Sgt. Malory and Pvt. Lenhart. As far as the old vet was concerned, those soldiers were more than simply casualties of the fight. They were Xavier and Heather, two kids who'd been betrayed by their government. Two God damn kids who'd barely been wet behind the ears in life's experiences as far as he was concerned, and they'd sacrificed their lives when it never should have come to it. They were denied the rest of their lives together.

The hell with that! No one else would die on his watch! If the powers above demanded one more life be sacrificed this day, Captain Overbeck swore by God and his M16 it wouldn't be anyone else but his.

"What'd I say about playing the martyr?" The war vet shouted, shrugging Eris aside as he brought Tyre in his sights again.

"Helllp Fraannnciiss!" She screamed, her eyes gleaming with anger as she pushed the stubborn vet towards the biker who was having a hard enough time just defending himself.

"You're not going out in a blaze of glory! That's my right, damn it!" Bill yelled, still trying to bring his weapon to bear as Tyre drew closer.

But Eris was having none of that. The gray goddess snarled and smacked Bill's weapon down, glaring at him.

"Saavvvee ssurrrvviiiivooorrs!" She screamed so loud Bill thought his ears popped.

"God damn it, God damn it, GOD DAMN IT ERIS! If you die, I'll... !"

"Loooveee yooouuu toooo..." The gray goddess sang with a lopsided smile, her angelic voice returning. She pecked the disgruntled war vet on his soot covered lips and sent him begrudgingly on his way before turning to face her demons.

.

* * *

.

Tyre could feel his vision wavering the way the air was when heat rises off pavement on a hot day. He was hurt... bad. Even MR-1's regenerative abilities weren't going to heal him fast enough. The constant pelting of all that lead on his exposed areas coupled with that damn sergeant's kamikaze blast had done a number on him. But the survivors were scattered and down. This was his chance to finish them.

An excruciating pain shot up his left leg, another roar erupting from him. There at his feet was that damn siren, and she'd sliced off his middle toe.

The little gray pest quickly leaped back, dodging a kick hard enough to send her into next week. Before he could recover his balance, the siren raced for his other leg and quickly scrambled up it like a squirrel up a tree, her claws digging into his flesh.

She shrieked and stabbed at his exposed neck, aiming to rip out his jugular. He grabbed her just in time, the tips of her deadly fingernails poking into his neck. He held her helpless above the ground the way a hunter would hold a live catch away from the body. The gray goddess struggled to free her hand from the beast's crushing grip. She shrieked and pulled on her arm with her free hand, but to no avail.

Tyre's face twisted into a sick grin as he eyed her claws sticking out from the top of his fist. As though deliberately taking his time, he brought his other fist to grab those claws, squeezing them.

And with the flick of his wrist, he snapped all of them right off.

Eris screamed. So loud and so shrill that Tyre thought his ears would explode. The mad doctor roared in pain and dropped the bothersome siren so he could cover his ears.

The siren clutched her damaged hand, trying to stop the throbbing. There was no blood, but the snapping of her claws was akin to having all one's fingers broken. She'd screamed so loud and shrill her own ears were ringing. It left her a little disoriented, though not nearly as much as Tyre, as he was still clamping the sides of his head with his massive hands.

"_Sound hurt... like screamer..."_

Tyre shook his head as though shaking away the stars, refocusing on his "lost" experiment with a renewed rage. He wasn't playing around anymore. If he closed in on her, she was finished. With only a few seconds to react, Eris' mind began to race.

"_Loud scream hurts... hurt other infected..."_

And just like that, the light bulb lit up.

Taking a deep breath, she put her hands to her mouth and...

.

* * *

.

"Zoey! God damn it Zoey wake up!" Louis yelled, pulling her off her back. He'd barely survived himself, in fact he thought he was done for until Bill showed up to take more of the common zombies off him. It felt like all of the blood thirsty maniacs were focused on him.

But if that was true, then Zoey...

"C'mon kid you're not checking out yet!" Bill yelled, gently slapping her face. Zoey groaned and coughed, a thin spray of blood spattering over Bill's face.

"Ooohh... God I feel awful."

"Here take these," Francis put some pain pills to her lips. The college girl swallowed them greedily, but she still felt like crap.

"We've... got to help..." She started.

A terrifying scream cut her off, everyone clenching their eyes and holding their ears from the painful cry.

The war vet feared the worst. He'd failed! Only his love could scream like that, and it sounded like her very heart was ripped from her chest.

"_No... Eris! NO!"_

His gray eyes opened to an astounding sight. Eris was projecting her deafening scream towards Tyre, who was stumbling back and roaring as he tried to drown her out.

"Oh my God!" Zoey yelled. "Its worse than that Screamer from Tyre's lab!"

But unlike the Screamer, Eris didn't have the lung capacity. Her cry died out as she gasped for breath, and Tyre was already refocusing on the gray banshee.

"_Hurts... hurts so much... head pounding. But... can't stop..."_

Eris screamed again, her battle cry causing all the survivors to clutch their ears. Her pitch went higher and higher, to the point where it became silent to the immune humans, but incredibly painful to her and Tyre.

Bill felt his teeth rattle from that last cry, then everything was silent. Maybe it was the ringing in his ears, but the very air seemed to be wavering in front of his lover as she "silently" screamed.

Eris gasped again, another breath out and even more painful than the first. Tyre had staggered to only a few feet away from his pile of propane projectiles. Hot flames licked at his feet from the ignited gas cans beneath the fueling tank, which looked like a tick about to pop. Eris went to take another breath.

But it sounded like a very loud, deep train whistle.

"The train's fueled!" Louis shouted. The huge locomotive slowly moved out of the repair bay, the auto-pilot directing it to the main switch track.

And closing in like an angry swarm was another horde.

"God damn it!" Bill yelled. The train whistle called yet _another _pack of angry zombies to the group. The mob rushed the survivors head on, the first line instantly cut down by a spray of hot lead from the four.

"We have to help Eris!" Francis cried as he and the others barely held off the mob. They were in sad shape, but rescue was so close, yet so far away.

"We won't reach her in time with this damn mob!" Louis said frustrated. A jabbering zombie rushed him, but met the butt end of the dark man's rifle.

"Zoey, you keep Tyre from charging Eris, we'll keep the mob away from you," Bill yelled. Another commoner with bloody, cracked fingernails went for the war vet's throat, but several well placed rounds dropped him on the spot.

Tyre roared and turned his attention to the train. Whether it was the loud whistle or that he knew that was their ride out, Eris didn't know. All she knew was he was going to try and stop it. Her head was spinning, her ears felt hot, and her lungs felt like they were on fire. Her damaging scream was hurting her almost as much as it hurt Tyre, but she knew she couldn't let up now.

With a weak breath, Eris put her hands to her mouth and screamed _again._

"Grrawwwwwgghh!" Tyre roared and clutched his ears, falling to his knees. Trails of blood were running from beneath his massive hands. The train would have to wait, first he was going to rip that siren limb from limb! He tried to stand again, but a bullet caught him in the temple and he roared again, nearly falling over.

Zoey smirked at her shot. It was luck no doubt, her hands were shaking she was in so much pain. God she hurt, yet Eris still looked worse. Zoey could make out numerous splotches of blood on her friend, as well as the claws completely snapped off from one hand. And despite her injuries, the gray woman would not let up her deafening scream which seemed to hurt her as much as it hurt Tyre. Eris stood in an offensive stance, hands cupped to her face, eyes narrowed, wings spread...

"_What the?"_

Zoey thought she was hallucinating. Maybe it was the pain pills, or the fact the air was wavering from the fire or Eris' scream...

She swore she saw... black wings splayed from both sides of the gray goddess' back.

"_Wings? Damn I must've been hit pretty hard."_

The college girl pushed the illusion out of her mind and brought Tyre back in her sights for another shot.

.

* * *

.

Eris' scream trailed off to a weak cry as she fell to her knees. She swore she could feel blood running from her ears down her cheeks. Tyre didn't even roar this time, though he was still on his feet and still squeezing his head from the immense pain.

"_Pain... so much. I...,"_ Black spots were flashing in front of her eyes and her head was throbbing like someone was pounding a drum inside. She hoped she could finally stop...

But Tyre leaned against the repair shed, pushing himself up again.

"_Survivors... must escape..." _Eris painfully stood, thinking of her friends. Zoey, Louis, Francis... and...

"_Bill..."_

Gathering the scraps of her strength, Eris drew her last breath and screamed loud enough to reach both heaven and hell.

.

* * *

.

"Rrggh... I am NOT dying in a train yard! I hate train yards!" Francis blasted another commoner's head to mush with his shotgun. They were holding the horde back, but more just kept coming.

"Makes two of us right now!" Louis grunted as he kicked a common zombie in the gut, sending him on his back before putting two rounds in his head. Three more were right there to avenge his death, but Louis beckoned them with a bloodied finger. He was beaten and bruised, he'd probably die here, but he wasn't going to go down easy.

Zoey fired round after round into Tyre's exposed neck. Every shot blew out fresh blood, but it still felt like she was only shooting him with a pellet gun. The only thing keeping him back was Eris, and she appeared to be in bad shape. She couldn't understand why though. She hadn't been slapped around as much as the rest, yet...

The college girl gasped as she realized why. The screamer. The shrill noise device used by the soldiers to hurt the S.I. Eris was combining them both with her vocal abilities, but it was killing her, just like it would any other S.I.

"Bill! You have to help Eris!" Zoey cried. "She's killing herself!"

The war vet shot down yet another commoner, just in time to see Zoey pointing at Eris and Tyre. They were both bleeding heavily, but Eris was about to collapse. Not to mention this undead tide just kept coming. If the survivors didn't break for that train now, they would be overwhelmed. It was looking grim, until the war vet remembered something still tucked away in his jacket.

"Zoey, cover me!" Bill roared. "Once the horde is off you guys, get to that train!"

"What are you doin' you crazy old bastard?" Francis bellowed.

"Making sure you all get the hell out of here! Get to that train! When everything clears, make sure you get Eris. And don't forget to look for a sail boat when you get to Rayford!"

"Don't you start talking like that!" Zoey growled. "We're all getting out of here! Just save her!"

"I promise to save her," Bill said. "Everyone, it's been an honor to serve with you. Look after each other!"

"Bill! You stubborn son of a bitch! Don't be a martyr!" Louis swore.

But Bill was already gone.

The war veteran sprinted ahead, reaching for the pipe bomb tucked in his jacket. He never had a chance to use it earlier with the mob toe to toe; which had proved to be a blessing. The war vet lit the fuse, running as fast as his old body would let him. He pitched back and threw, the beeping explosive sailing over his lover's head and landing right at Tyre's feet. Several common zombies brushed past the old soldier, completely ignoring him to focus on the pipe bomb's beeping noise.

"_5"_

Bill felt sweat sting his eyes, blurring his vision. The horde was collecting at Tyre's feet, clawing at him in an effort to reach the bomb. The mad doctor stopped squeezing his head and squashed several of the commoners at his feet, but more kept coming.

Eris felt the last of her breath escape into the air as her legs wobbled beneath her. She saw the mass of her commoner brethren swarming Tyre, keeping him occupied. She only hoped it would be long enough for her friends to escape. She barely had the strength to stand. Every ounce of her body was filled with pain, so much that she could barely feel the tears running from her eyes. She didn't even get to say goodbye.

"That crazy old bastard!" Francis yelled, blasting another group of commoners. "He's gonna blow up the whole fueling station!"

"Wasn't that your plan at first?" Louis asked, dodging a commoner's punch.

"I wasn't planning on being that close!"

"_4"_

The war vet sprinted _past _the gray goddess with a wide breadth to avoid running into her outstretched... wings? Shimmering black and almost translucent, like the night Eris sang to the entire base. Wings? He must have really had his bell rung, he was seeing things. Now in front of his gray goddess, he prepared to double back.

Amber eyes widened in surprise at the sight of her lover running straight towards Tyre. No! He would die! She wanted him to live! Why was he doing this?

"God damn you Bill... " Zoey cursed, slinging her rifle over her shoulder and drawing her blade. If the stubborn old fool was so insistent on dying, she wasn't going to let it be in vain.

"_3"_

The war vet slid one one foot, kicking up the dust as he pulled a U-turn. He fell to his knees but scrambled up like a runner out of the starting gate, charging straight into the open arms of his gray goddess.

Eris' heart thudded as Bill ran towards her. Her lover wouldn't leave without her, even if that meant dying.

Her arms fell open to catch him.

"Go! Go! GO!" Francis yelled as he, Louis, and Zoey hurried towards the train, away from the carnage. The train sat at the switch, door open, awaiting the last to get on board.

"Damn it this is gonna be close!" Louis swore.

"_2"_

Bill leaped hands first, diving into his lover. When that pipe went off, it was going to blow up that Diesel tank, taking Tyre with it. He only prayed his body would be enough to shield Eris from the explosion. As far as he was concerned, his life wasn't worth living without her in it. If one of them had to die, it would be him.

Every moment they'd shared together flashed before Eris' eyes. Their first encounter in the safe room, him saving her from that hunter, their passionate lovemaking after she awakened him from his nightmare, the two of them fighting side by side on the roof top, her saving him from the Tank, the week they'd spent out of the fight and in each others arms every chance they got. The moment she'd found him again in Tyre's lab, overjoyed he was alive, and even a few moments ago fighting with him to drop his stubborn prideful act to save his friends. She couldn't imagine a life without him, so she'd rather die to save him. And yet he was _still _going to risk his life to save her.

If they weren't about to die in a fiery explosion, it would have been the happiest moment of her life.

"_1..."_

Bill collided with his lover, taking her off her feet. Bill squeezed her tight, her arms wrapping around him as they both left the ground. In the next instant, a wave of superheated air and fire would wash over them both. It would kill him, but he would shield Eris. The concussive explosion following would knock them out if not killing them outright. Bill only hoped the shock would kill him so he wouldn't be burned alive.

"Biiiilll..." Eris cried, her eyes clenching shut as he slammed into her. She wrapped herself around him, holding on tight. "Iiii loooveee..."

_BOOM!_

The pipe bomb detonated, the stack of propane canisters following, and then the diesel tank erupted, its entire load of flammable liquid ignited at once, completely engulfing Tyre and the common zombies around him.

For an instant Bill's skin felt like it was ablaze, like a Molotov struck him in the back. But just as quickly as the scalding pain was there, it was gone. It felt like a fire-proof blanket had wrapped around him from both sides...

Then the concussive wave exploded outward, swallowing him into darkness.

.

* * *

.

"Dr. Allan, the base is secure."

"Thank you Lieutenant," he said, curtly dismissing him.

"Nothing from Bill since that last transmission," Alexis sighed. "I sure hope they're..."

But she was cut off by a distant explosion, loud enough to send a quake through the entire base.

"What the?"

"Sir!" Another soldier ran up. "That explosion came from the old train repair yard approximately ten miles south of here.

Dr. Allan groaned, fearing the worst. Alexis looked like she was on the verge of tears. It had only been twelve minutes or so since they'd lost radio contact, but to the ebony beauty it seemed like hours.

"Dispatch a reconnaissance squad to check on the status of the yard. Do a _thorough _search for uninfected! Alive or dead, if there's an uninfected person I want to know about it.

The soldier quirked in puzzlement. What life could possibly have held out at an abandoned train yard?

"Ah sir I..."

Dr. Allan glared, daring him to finish the question.

"Yes sir. Right away!" The solider saluted and gathered his squad mates.

Cool, dark hands clasped his as Alexis stared at him with watery eyes.

"I'm sure they're alright," Dr. Allan said soothingly, even though the odds of them surviving were slim to nil. But then, they weren't the average run-of-the-mill people either. "They're a tough lot. It'll take a lot more to bring them down."

Alexis sighed, blinking away her tears before trying the radio yet again. "Please be right Dr. Allan," she whispered.

.

* * *

.

The entire yard was engulfed in smoke, ash, and an eerie silence. Between the dark of the night and the smoke, it was a miracle they'd even seen the train's faint running lights.

"Haah.. haah... we... we made it..." Louis huffed, leaning against the locomotive engine and coughing on the smoke filled air.

"Can't... believe... we..." Francis started to say but was cut off by a coughing fit. "Christ... I hate burning fuel..."

Zoey coughed and blinked away tears flooding her face. She'd liked to have blamed it on the acrid smoke, but she knew better.

"We have to go back. We have to look for them." she said.

Francis thought about saying something but kept quiet. No one, not even Bill or their gray friend, could have survived that explosion.

The survivors made their way back to the battlefield, their flashlights doing little to light their way in the dense smoke. Surprisingly, the repair shed was still standing, though there was a huge gaping hole in the wall where the diesel tank once sat. Dead bodies were strewn about everywhere like rag dolls in a child's play pen. Sprawled out on his back, Tyre's massive form lay on the ground, a huge pool of blood on the ground and his entrails poking out of his abdomen.

"He's dead," Francis grunted, kicking the freak once.

Zoey nodded grimly. Tyre's mutated form was vastly more durable than Eris, and he'd been killed. Then again, he was at "ground zero" when the whole thing blew, and he was already injured. If Bill and Eris were far enough away...

The sound of faint coughing echoed off in the distance.

"Smoker?" Louis said, arming his rifle.

"No..." Zoey said, following the sound. It appeared to be coming from opposite the repair shed. The three survivors followed the sound which slowly trailed off. They came upon a two foot wide groove dug into the earth, as though something had landed with incredible force. Through the smoke, their flashlights fell upon the outline of a familiar silhouette, the beret still atop its owner's head.

"I... I don't believe it..." Louis gasped.

Francis stared wide eyed.

"Bill!" Zoey cried. The college girl dropped her sword and rushed for her comrade, but fell short at the sight before her.

The war veteran's was laid out on his stomach, arms wrapped around something beneath him.

Louis looked on with wary eyes. "Bill? You okay?"

The grieving war hero didn't face them, didn't answer, didn't move. Eris' arms were lazily wrapped around him, one hand missing its set of deadly claws.

"Bill?" Zoey whispered.

She gently touched his shoulder, and the war vet slowly turned to face his comrades, Eris' arms falling lifelessly from his shoulders. Bill had survived the explosion, and incredibly he didn't have any serious burns on his back, save some patches of charred cloth near his shoulders and by his calves. Though he'd landed on top of Eris, his body hadn't bared the brunt of the explosion.

"_Eris... "_

The face staring back at the blue-eyed girl made her heart break.

Bill held the same face Zoey remembered from the rooftop battle when Eris had presumably plummeted to her death: A soldier broken with loss, but doing his damnedest to hide it. Eris lay flat on her back, completely unscathed by the fire, but completely lifeless. Her eyes were closed, and thankfully her face wasn't twisted in pain like Zoey thought it would be. Rather, she looked to be at peace, as though she'd fallen asleep and would never wake.

"Bill. I'm... I'm so sorry..." Zoey said, choking on her words as tears flooded her eyes.

The war vet sighed, eyes shut, fists clenched in a testament of controlled anger. "I swore no one else would die," he muttered. "After seeing Heather get crushed... and Xavier blowing himself into a thousand pieces to try to stop Tyre..." Bill growled now, his fists shaking.

"It's okay Bill," Francis said with a surprising softness to his rough voice. "You did your best."

Bill roared angrily, the other survivors jumping back, startled.

"No I didn't!" Bill screamed to no one. "I swore no one else would die! I swore that Eris would not play the martyr and sacrifice her life to save what little is left of mine!" The war vet didn't even know _how_ she'd managed to save him from being flash fried without being scorched herself, but she had, and he was pissed. Bill grabbed Eris by the shoulders, squeezing them as he stared down at her stoic face. "God damn you!" He cried, his voice beginning to break. "God damn you for loving me that much! This wasn't your choice to make! It was mine! Do you hear me, God damn it?"

Louis quickly scanned the surrounding darkness for any surprises attracted by the war vet's angry outburst. Francis turned away as well, scanning the tree line as the smoke slowly dissipated with the gentle night breeze.

Zoey, however, would not keep silent.

"It _was_ her choice Bill."

The war vet paused, his frowning face almost comical considering the tirade he'd nearly gone on. "She's a _survivor._ We have our own free will to think and feel and do whatever the hell we want. And we make our choices based on that, and sometimes damn what anyone else thinks." The college girl choked, her tears coming forth freely. "Do you think any of us wanted _you _to go and get yourself killed so we could escape? I don't recall you asking any of us if we'd object to you dieing so we could live."

"But this was different..." Bill said quietly, looking away in shame.

"No it isn't!" Zoey nearly yelled, her temper flaring. "If you think you have the right to throw away your life, to go out in some fucking blaze of glory like the stubborn old hero you think you are, then you're a fool! Death is NOT a choice! It's an eventuality!"

The war vet's gray eyes perked up as he locked with the college girl's tearful baby blues in the darkness.

"_An eventuality..."_

There was still time.

Aged lips pressed against soft gray lips that were still warm. Bill's heart raced.

"_She's warm. There's still a chance!"_

A faint, yet beautiful, familiar voice came crackling from Bill's jacket.

"Captain Overbeck... please respond. Come in! Anyone? Francis? Please be alive..."

Bill ignored it. Right now he didn't care about anything except trying to bring Eris back to them.

"I got it." Francis said, grabbing the radio from Bill's jacket. The war vet completely ignored him as he hovered over his lost love. The biker shook his head. Of all the people he expected to have a breakdown over the loss of a comrade, Bill was furthest down on his list. Louis or Zoey, hell yeah, but Bill? He didn't know what the old man was trying to do, kissing Eris like that...

Zoey watched Eris' chest rise as the war vet blew the breath of life into her while his fingers pinched her nose. Two deep breaths, then Bill sat up, placing his palms against her breast bone.

"One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten."

Bill huffed as he counted out each fast chest pump. Ordinary CPR required the person to push hard enough to "jump-start" the heart, though the breast bone would make this difficult. Eris' bones were even more dense and resistant. It was like pushing on a three inch thick oak board.

"Eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty."

Bill was still counting out the chest compressions as Eris' body gently shook beneath his palms. Louis kept a vigilant watch, though not a single screaming infected had charged from the darkness. They'd likely killed every one within a ten mile radius of the train yard.

"_You're not done yet. You're stronger than this!"_

"Twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three, four, five, six," he huffed. "Twe.. seven, eight, nine, thirty."

Bill pressed his lips against hers again, blowing two more deep breaths into her. His lungs were burning. Her chest and bone density made it more of a challenge to blow air into her, but by God he was going to do this until Eris woke or he passed out.

Zoey was crying silently, fingering the drawstrings on her pink hoodie. She was so nervous. There was a chance she knew, but a very slim one.

"God damn it!" Bill swore, switching back to her chest and counting out the chest pumps. "One, two, thr.., our, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, elev.."

A pair of hands fell onto his, and Bill looked up to catch the crowing glory of Zoey's auburn hair.

"Twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen," she counted pushing down hard along with him. "Sixteen, seventeen, eighteen..."

"Don't forget to give me a shot," Louis said, stealing a glance at the two of them before returning his attention to scanning the area. Still nothing thank God, though lately Louis wondered who the hell to thank, if there was a God for letting the world come to this.

"_If you're up there and you're taking requests, please don't take her yet." _Louis thought.

.

* * *

.

"Please come in!" Alexis pleaded, holding the radio to her head. Dr. Allan paced back and forth quietly, trying to walk off the anxiety.

"Francis? Please be alive... ple-.. hello? Oh my God! Francis!" Alexis practically squealed with delight. "Francis what happened? Did you...?"

Dr. Allan eyed his assistant, her facial expressions changing faster than a chameleon with an identity complex. She went from elated, relieved, shocked, and...

"No... oh no. Francis..." Alexis stammered as her cheeks became wet.

Despair.

.

* * *

.

"Hahh.. eight, nine, thirty." Zoey huffed. Bill sealed his lips over Eris' yet again, blowing air into her lungs.

"God damn it!" Bill gasped as he broke the breath of life. "You're not allowed to die on my watch!"

Louis had taken up Zoey's place for the next round, pushing on the gray goddess' chest. "C'mon Eris. You're not gone, I know it..." He said, counting out the compressions in his head.

.

* * *

.

"Yes... I understand. I wish you the best. Call back when you're in Rayford, okay? And all of you better keep in touch after that." A pause.. a giggle amidst the gloom. "Yes, especially you, big boy. Ok. Goodbye Francis."

Alexis returned the radio to her belt and stared at Dr. Allan as though she were about to crack.

.

* * *

.

Bill was back to pressing on Eris' chest, Zoey and Louis resting but only not having given up for Bill's sake. Louis hated to think it, but perhaps Eris was truly gone, and how Bill would cope with it? Well if this was the first stage of denial, then let him ride it out.

Anger was next, then depression. And how Bill would handle that worried the dark man.

"... seven, eight, nine, twenty, one, two, three, four..." Bill gasped.

.

* * *

.

"What happened?" Dr. Allan asked, holding her hands.

"Sgt. Malory and Pvt. Lenhart... they're dead." Alexis whispered, trying to keep from crying.

.

* * *

.

Another breath, another rise and fall of Eris' chest. Zoey and Louis looked crestfallen at the sight of Bill still trying.

"God... fucking... DAMN IT!" Bill yelled, having given two more breaths to his love. He had to face facts, this was it. Eris was dead, and there would be no bringing her back. But God damn it how he'd tried. He knew she didn't want to die. Eris was a fighter, her mettle stronger than anyone considering what she'd gone through.

He hadn't given up, he knew she wouldn't. But here they were. Bill hovered over her, watching his tears fall onto her beautifully peaceful face.

"Eris..." Bill whispered. "I love you. I'm sorry." He lowered his lips to kiss her for the last time, gently nuzzling her nose and his for a moment.

A warm breath, ever so faint, puffed over his lips, and the old man felt like his heart had stopped.

Bill paused, holding his own breath and holding his lips close to hers. Maybe it was just errant air escaping.

"_Please... please God..."_

Another faint breath.

"Eris... c'mon girl I know you're in there!" Bill said in a shaky voice. "Wake up, come back to us!"

"Bill..." Zoey said. "She's gone. Please... I know this is hard, but we need you. We have to..."

The old vet wasn't listening. He knew what he felt, he wasn't imagining it. He slid his arms under her back and legs, slowly lifting her into a bridal carry as he stood.

"Old man you can't be serious," Francis said, taking a pause from his conversation. Bill said nothing, but the glare the old vet shot back spoke volumes.

.

* * *

.

"Eris is... Eris..."

And with that the ebony R.N. started sobbing, throwing herself into Dr. Allan's arms.

Dr. Allan gasped not expecting that. Alexis was a tall woman, and her head came to rest in the crook of his neck as she cried. His hands found her back, rubbing her in a soothing gesture as she bawled into his shoulder. He wanted to say something comforting, but he guessed the best thing was simply to keep silent and continue rubbing her back.

"Eris..." Dr. Allan whispered. "Bill... I'm so sorry."

.

* * *

.

The survivors were gathered together by the remains of the concrete that had crushed Pvt. Lenhart. Louis contemplated making a cross of some sort, but nearly everything flammable was charred or incinerated. Though he didn't know what religion, if any, the two fallen soldiers believed in, he knew the cross was the standard to mark graves of the fallen.

Bill stood closest to the slab, holding Eris in his arms the way a man would carry a bride over the threshold. After feeling the weak breaths coming from his lover, Bill had insisted that the others feel her to be certain he wasn't hallucinating. Francis flat out refused, and Louis looked a little squeamish at the thought of touching a corpse, but Zoey agreed, begrudgingly at first. She'd laid her head over Eris' chest...

And she knew she had gone off the deep end. She'd heard it. A thump-thump. Faint but there, followed by another, and another.

It took some pleading for Louis, and more than a little threat to genital harm for Francis, but Zoey convinced the other two survivors to confirm they were all indeed nuts. And they were. Eris was breathing, _she was alive_.

But she was comatose.

Like any comatose victim, it was unknown when or if they would wake. But that didn't matter. Eris was a survivor, and no one would leave her behind. They would have a long train ride to process everything that had transpired, and perhaps bring Eris out of the unconscious limbo she was imprisoned in, and back into their lives.

But for now, they were going to pay their respects to the dead. It was decided that Bill should give the eulogy, being a soldier himself.

"I don't have much to say that isn't already known about Sgt. Xavier Malory and Pvt. Heather Lenhart," Bill said quietly, nuzzling Eris' white hair with his face before looking up again. "They were two brave soldiers who died honorably, protecting what they believed in: Humanity. They made the ultimate sacrifice. They gave up their future, so we could have ours."

Louis felt a tear on his cheek, quickly wiping it aside. Everyone still had their heads bowed in the moment of silence, except Bill who was looking up at the night sky as he spoke. The moon shone bright, its glow having finally pierced the acrid smoke and the darkness of the train yard. After a few more moments of silence, the war vet recited the prayer for the dead.

"Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death..."

A cold shiver passed through Zoey's lithe frame as the war vet's words triggered her memory.

"_Ah fear no evil, fo thou art wit me..." _ Zoey heard the black southern voice in her head, a survivor she'd never knew, reciting his prayer for Bill and Eris when they'd perished the town of Rayford, the town of her nightmare, their next destination.

"Thy rod and thy staff..."

"_Dey comfort me."_

"Thou preparest a table before me... _in tha presence of mah enemies_."

"Thou annointest my head with oil..."

"_Mah cup runneth ovah."_

"Surely goodness and mercy will follow me, and I will dwell in the House of the Lord... forever and ever!"  
..."_Surely goodness and mercy will follow me and Ah will dwell in tha House of tha Lord... forevah and evah!"_

"Amen." Everyone said quietly.

And with that, the survivors slowly turned their backs on death and walked toward the train, their ride to salvation in the southern town of Rayford, Georgia. Bill cradled his love tight, her curtain of platinum hair spilling down her face onto her bosom. Her arms were loosely draped around his neck, and the old vet took some comfort that she was holding on to him, though weakly. The survivors filed into the train, the door sealing behind the war veteran and his gray goddess. The huge diesel-powered locomotive slowly lumbered out of the yard, leaving behind the destruction and chaos that would continue to follow the survivors as sure as the night follows the day. The train sped down the tracks and out of sight, the loud "clack-clack" of the wheels on the tracks fading away.

In the remains of the abandoned yard, out of the sky something fluttered down amidst the ash and smoke. It descended in a slow arcing pattern, swaying and dancing in the errant breeze before finally tucking between the fingers of the dead outstretched hand that stuck out from beneath its concrete "grave." And despite the wind's efforts to carry it off again, it remained there.

Fluttering against the wind, like a beacon of hope in the sea of despair, was a single long, black feather.

.

A/N: You all must want my blood right about now. :-) This is your chance to determine how it will end. Once again it can end here, or there can be an epilogue! The choice is in your hands. Review! And thank you all for being the awesome fans you've been! Thank you for your patience with me, and thank you for your praise and critiques!


	18. The Passing Memories

_**Legal Disclaimer: Dear God do we have to go through this again? For Christ sake if you don't know by now what characters are mine and which are Valve's, you've either skipped every chapter but this one or you're not even qualified to be a greeter at Wally World. However... FF is very insistent I list ownership copyrights, so here they are... again.**_

_**Valve owns Bill, Louis, Zoey, Francis, Tank, Hunter, Smoker, Boomer, Witch, Spitter, Charger, and Jockey. They also own the generic plot that encompasses the Left 4 Dead and Left 4 Dead 2 games.**_

_**Xmodius owns just about everything else, including but not limited to Eris, Siren concept character, Tyre, Xavier, Lenhart, Dr. Allan, and Alexis. I also own the subplot that makes up this story. And if there's anything I missed that anyone with an IQ over 80 would know is not a Valve creation, well I own that too. :-P**_

_Mature Content Warning: This story contains violence and sexual themes! Not necessarily mixed together, unless of course you folks like violent sex. In which case maybe I can work something out. However, if you're under 18 or are easily offended, for the love of God turn the computer off NOW! NOW BEFORE YOUR EYES CATCH FIRE! HURRY!_

Authors Notes: It turns out that a lot of people want this story to continue, and while I originally was going to just write an epilogue, I realized that in order to explain everything that happens I'd have to write a very, very, VERY, LOOOOOOOONG epilogue chapter. So... in keeping with satisfying all the awesome readers who left me reviews asking me to keep the story going, and breaking up the story into manageable chapters that won't literally make your eyes bleed... drum roll please...

bududududududududum...

This story is NOT yet over! WOOOHOOO! I'm so excited I could just orgasm all over my keyboard and render myself unable to publish the next chapter for at least a month. :-P That's my excuse and I'm stickin' to it.

This chapter is written a little different from the rest. While I normally write in only third person, there will be segments in this chapter where I switch to first person. Hope you like it!

By the way readers, if you have requests (or ideas or suggestions) don't hesitate to throw them my way. And by that I mean if there are character pairings you would really like to see, let me know. I do have certain limits as to what I will write about, but I'm open-minded for the most part.

On with the show!

..

.

Chapter 17 – The Passing Memories

.

..

The thunder rolled over the town of Rayford, riding in on a blanket of thick storm clouds filled with a torrent of rain that had already began falling at an increasing pace. Standing on an outcropping from the raised bridge was a petite college girl, peering below at a group of four people and their stranded vehicle down below.

"Hey! Can you lower the bridge?" A southern voice shouted up, trying to over power the storm.

"Sorry no can do!" Zoey shouted back.

"Uh... is there like a password or somethin'?"

"Uh... no. The generator on the other side is out of fuel. You'll have to find a way to get to the other side to fill it up before we can lower the bridge."

"Okay ah guess. Thanks!"

Zoey wiped her face of rainwater as she peered down from the raised bridge. She knew she'd heard a car engine over the storm. A blue racing car was parked on the other side with four survivors around it. With the heavy winds and rain falling, it was tough to hear the young man, let alone see him clearly. All she knew was there were four uninfected people in need of help, but there wasn't much they could do for them with the generator out of gas. She heard one talking about some "Under The River" tour that would take them to the other side.

"Zoey darlin'! Get inside before you're soaked!" Francis shouted from the control room mounted high up on the bridge.

The college girl hurried into the large control room, shutting out the rain and the aftermath of the last battle which still lingered in their minds. The bridge control room was surprisingly spacious, lined with windows and and operator control panel with monitoring equipment along one wall. In the middle sat a break table with four chairs. The floor was a dingy orange linoleum, and the only place to stretch out to rest was along the wall with the door or beneath the table. Not the most comfortable places to sleep, but better than nothing.

"I knew I heard something," she said.

"Uh huh, just like you swore you heard a scream after the fight..." Francis said.

If looks could kill, Francis would've dropped on the spot from Zoey's cold stare.

"Guys, lets not... rrggh... get into this again," Louis said, groaning as he adjusted his injured leg. The system's analyst had hurt his leg pretty bad in the last fight, he could barely stand without leaning on something. For now he was sitting in one of the small chairs surrounding a break table, his bad leg propped up on another chair. "We still don't know... what happened to... Eris."

"_I _know what happened," Francis said. "Just because we didn't _see _it happen..."

"We don't know that she's dead." Zoey growled, her temper flaring. "One minute she was there, the next she was gone."

"Oh come on," Francis sighed. Much as he liked Zoey, her bleeding heart was a real pain in the ass. "There was a mob scrambling up that bridge and there was three Tanks! The vampires don't go after people who _look _dead, but how else could she have disappeared?"

"True," Louis said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "When I was leaning on that mounted gun, trying to cover Bill..."

A noticeable shiver passed through the group as the dark man caught himself. None of them felt comfortable talking about what happened only hours before. The survivors had succeeded in raising the bridge, but when the closest generator gave out halfway up, and with a horde of common infected followed by _three _approaching tanks, their fearless leader made the ultimate sacrifice, diving into the fray to restart the generator. In the midst of gunfire and screaming, Eris had been forgotten. When everything settled, she was gone without a trace.

Bill on the other hand... well... it wasn't like they could climb down and look for him. The last thing Louis remembered was keeping a .50 caliber bullet lead on one of the Tanks that was trying to climb the bridge. Just as he'd brought it down, another one hurled a slab of concrete right at the generator, and Louis heard Bill scream in pain. He focused his bullet stream on the other Tank, but it was out of his line of fire before could do enough to save the war vet's life. Though none of them saw Bill perish, there was no way the old man would survive cornered with a determined Tank.

"Never mind." Louis sighed. "Zoey, what's going on with those other survivors?"

"They need to get across the bridge with their car. They're going to make their way to the other side of the bridge through the 'Under the River Tour' or something. Then they'll gas up that damn generator so we can lower the bridge for them."

"Why exactly are we helping them anyway?" Francis asked.

"It's the right thing to do, plus it helps us." Louis said simply.

"No offense brother, but you're in no condition to help anyone. Hell you can barely stand up without crying like a little-"

"Shut up Francis." Zoey spat.

The biker eyed his comrades for a moment, then shook his head. "Whatever. I'm gonna try to get a little sleep. _If _those guys make it to the other side, wake me."

"They're gonna make it." Louis said. "I got a good feeling about them."

Zoey nodded. "Louis, do you mind keeping watch for the first hour?"

"No problem," the injured man said with a weak smile. "You guys rest up. Not like we have to worry about anything getting way up here..."

"But just in case?" Zoey said, a smile returning to her pretty face.

"Just in case," Louis reassured, earning himself a peck on the cheek from his lady comrade. Francis took a spot near the door, laying across it, while Zoey settled for stretching out underneath the table.

With the gentle patter of the rain against the glass, the two survivors were lulled to sleep, leaving the injured systems analyst to replay their last stand in his mind over and over. The outcome was the same every time, a frustrating, bitter ending. A Tank, charging out of his sights to send their heroic comrade to meet his maker.

"Damn Tanks," Louis growled under his breath. Between Bill and Eris, those muscle-bound bastards were always picking on the two of them the most. It was just like the railroad car with the Tank trapped inside...

Louis' mind drifted back to when they'd first arrived in Rayford, and the first time he felt a renewed hope for the fate of humanity.

.

* * *

.

The train slowly pulled into the remains of the Army Reserve Base, our errant gun fire cutting down infected from the windows. The first thing I noticed when we filed out was how desolate the town looked. The train station itself was a brick building, but chunks of the wall were missing as though it was hit by a wayward grenade.

"We gotta be gettin' close to the Gulf. I can smell the salt water."

"I think those are Bill's tears," Francis said, no tact as usual.

"I'll give you somethin' to cry about Francis." Bill growled as he stared dead ahead. Eris was riding him piggy back, still unconscious, and still very peaceful.

"So what's the plan Bill?" I asked.

"We make our way to the harbor in this town, find us a boat, and sail to an island in the keys."

"_And then what, Bill? We hang it up and live like Robinson Crusoe for the rest of our days?"_

Zoey snorted once, but Bill didn't notice. Or if he did, he didn't care.

"I hate islands." Typical of Francis.

"Surprise surprise," Bill grunted, shifting Eris on his back. "C'mon lets get going."

We made our way through the small residential buildings that lined part of the river. I took point with Zoey, while Francis guarded Bill and Eris. I knew "Mr. Optimistic" wasn't happy about "guardin' the old man," but Bill couldn't defend himself while carrying Eris. I was happy as anyone to find they'd both survived the fight with Tyre, but with Eris in a coma, _someone _had to carry her, and I can't say I blamed Bill at all for stepping up. Still, that left us with only three "guns." No room for sloppiness.

Things were going pretty well, we kept the horde at bay, and Zoey was a crack shot at sniping the special infected who tried to break us up.

But then we met some new specials we'd never seen before, and I met one up close and way too personal.

"The hell is that? Giggling?" Zoey asked.. All of us looked up and around; it was coming from one of the roofs.

"Yeah, sounds like some nervous skittish...," I started to say.

Then all of a sudden there was a damn monkey on my back, laughing like a maniac and choking me! I stumbled away from the group while trying to keep this thing from breaking my damn neck!

"Get it off! Get it off me!"

"What the fuck is that?" I heard Francis shout.

"Who cares! Shoot it!" Bill yelled, and then the bullets were whizzing by my ears. Glad my teammates are good shots, because several heart pounding moments later that laughing monkey fell off me, twitching in a pool of blood.

"That's mine!" Francis said, scoring the kill.

"That thing was... riding you," Zoey said, her pretty face twisted in a look of disgust. "That thing" looked like a midget hunchback wearing a wife beater and racing stripe shorts. It had huge hands and a lipless, blood-stained grin.

"Yeah like a Jockey on a horse," Bill said.

"Uh Louis, that thing wasn't trying to... uh..." Francis was trying not to laugh, and I swear if he hadn't just saved me from what felt like a head-raping, I would've decked him. I didn't even bother answering though. After everything that we'd been through, nothing else was going to surprise me.

We kept moving, passing under a destroyed bridge and around some more buildings. At the sound of the horde we took shelter in a boat garage, Bill and Eris staying behind us while we mowed down the tide of zombies. It was rough, more so on Bill's pride I think than the rest of us since he couldn't help. Once we'd "thinned the herd" we kept on, stopping in one of the smaller houses to check for supplies, and to give Bill a moment to rest.

"Is it just me, or does this place look like a different kind of 'wrecked'?"

"What do you mean Louis?" Zoey was always first to field my questions.

"This looks like more than just 'zombie' chaos. It was as though the town had been ransacked by whatever remnants of the military had escaped with their lives."

"Yeah, looks like a real thieves party," I heard Francis say from a room down the hall. "Nothin' in any of these rooms."

Bill had half leaned against a desk, letting it hold Eris' weight for a few minutes. He wasn't out of breath, but I figured he hadn't carried the equivalent of a full rucksack on his back for a long time.

"You sure you don't want any help?"

"I'm fine son," he said. It irritated me when he called me that. I always hated being called that by people older than me, even though I knew Bill didn't mean anything by it; he saw all of us as kids. I guess that made sense coming from a guy a couple decades older than the rest of us. I let him be and checked some of the rooms. I found a few zombies shambling around, nothing that couldn't be solved by a couple rounds to their heads from my "nine." Thankfully my bullets weren't spent in vain. A familiar bottle with its blue and yellow label was tipped on its side in the corner of the room.

"Grabbin' Pills."

"You find something Louis?" The war vet asked from down the hall.

"Yup, found some painkillers. Uh.. you want some for your back, Bill?"

Sympathy wasn't high up on Bill's list. "I ain't _that_ old Louis. You keep 'em."

We headed back outside, cutting through more ransacked houses and offices to avoid burning cars and other street obstacles. We soon found out that Jockey wasn't the only new special infected. Francis nearly got his boots burned off by a freakishly tall female infected with glowing green drool. She was like the Smoker, eying us from a tall building, but instead of a tongue she spat a ball of green goo at us. The goo ball splattered at our feet, burning like fire, causing all of us to practically dance as we scattered away from it.

Not soon after that, Zoey was carried away by this thing that looked like half a Tank, one massive arm and the other a floppy appendage. It roared like an angry bull and charged right at us with incredible speed, grabbing Zoey in it's massive arm as it went straight for a wall. Even facing a Tank, I never felt my heart race so fast when I thought Zoey was going to be flattened. I filled that bastard with an entire clip, then another into its collapsed form even after Francis was telling me the thing was dead.

Continuing our search for a boat, we came across a few parked in a garage, but Bill insisted on one with a sail that was already in the water. We found another boat lot with some piles of bricks and a much needed stock of ammo. I swear we find munitions in the strangest places, like right out in the open.

"Christ this is a big mess," Bill said. Said mess was a derailed train that was blocking our way.

And then we heard it.

"You guys hear that?" Francis whispered. An all too familiar growl, with that heavy panting.

"Tank," Zoey said, fingering her rifle. "It sounds like its..."

"Coming from _inside _that train car." I said. We approached the derailed train, and a boxcar sprayed with Bio-hazard stickers was shaking as the frustrated Tank tried pounding its way out. Thankfully the box car's walls didn't appear to give at all. We could hear the Tank roaring and punching the solid steel, then panting in frustration.

"Think we can climb over it?" Can't blame me for being hopeful, right?

"Not a chance," Bill said.

"Then we have to go through. Shit. Shit shit shit..."

"Settle down son," Bill said. There he goes again with that. "First we need to find a safe spot to put Eris."

We backtracked a little and found a small storage/furnace room inside the boat yard that was part of one of the apartments, well away from the destroyed train. I'll never forget the look on Bill's face when he slipped and Eris landed a little hard on her rump. She whimpered but still sat there as lifeless as a rag doll.

"I'll be back sweetheart, I promise." Bill said, kissing her cheek.

We shut the door and went back across the yard to the train car. And on the way I nearly tripped and fell on my face.

"What the hell?" I'd stepped on what looked like a pickle jar, but this "jar" had a bio-hazard symbol on it with metal caps and a belt clip, and inside was an all too familiar looking, disgusting green liquid.

"Is that Boomer bile?" Francis asked.

"Sure looks like it," Zoey commented, scrunching her nose, even though the jar was sealed. The thought of it made me want to puke too. All of us had been barfed on enough by those fat infected to last a dozen lifetimes. Still, I clipped it to my belt in the hopes it worked just as well on infected as it did on us. Man I'd love to give a Boomer a taste of his own medicine. We made our way over to the train car, the irritated growling within becoming no less frightening.

"So who's opening the door?" Zoey asked.

Everyone was quiet, then Francis of all people spoke up.

"Hell, I'll do it. Everyone get back." As we backed a healthy distance away, I swear I heard Francis mumble something like, "Just remember who let ya outta here."

Francis struggled with the latch, it having rusted a bit. With a final grunt, he threw the lever and the door slid open to release a very angry occupant.

Tanks are dangerous, but pretty simple: Big, powerful, angry, and not very bright. This one was almost the same, except I think being cooped up in that train car made him even _more _pissed. Francis leaped back when the door slid open, but he still wasn't fast enough. The big bastard caught him with a solid punch, sending him barreling into us. He roared before coming out of the train car, and between that and the mostly empty boat yard, it echoed... _a lot._ And it was LOUD.

Then we heard the cry of the horde.

"Mother f-" Zoey shouted as the common zombies rushed to the boat yard. A mass of them were spilling over from our right. I popped the heads of several from my M16, trying to cover Zoey. The Tank slapped a boat right off its trailer, flattening a group of zombies and causing us to scatter. More were coming though, and if we were surrounded, we were finished.

"That's the thanks I get for lettin' you out?" Francis yelled from the Tank's flank. The muscled freak ignored him, until Francis put about half a clip of shotgun shells into his side. The Tank roared and turned to smack him again, but Zoey and I were fast to throw him off with our own onslaught of lead. For a second the Tank looked confused as to who should get pummeled first.

A few more rounds caught it in the back, and it turned again, focusing on the war vet. Bill was cut off from us by the huge creature, backpedaling away from the train as he unloaded his weapon.

Straight into a horde that'd climbed over the fence about fifty paces behind him.

"Figures," Bill groaned, backing away as The tank lumbered after him. The horde was getting worse, and before we knew it all of us were shooting or slapping those damn jabbering ankle-biters! Bill got caught up with several commoners, one cracking him in the back.

"Aaagh! God damn it!" Bill roared, pistol-whipping the commoner. He was ready to turn his attention back to the Tank, but suddenly he froze. For a moment I thought he was afraid, but he cocked his head as though he'd heard something.

"Bill snap out of it!" Zoey yelled.

Bill shook his head and refocused on the behemoth, but it was too late. The freak slugged him hard, and I swear Bill's a tough old bird, but he still screamed. He flew back like a thrown rock, and when he landed there was a mass of common zombies to "catch" him.

"Aaagh! I'm down!" I heard him yell as the commoners began beating and kicking at him.

"Shit! We gotta help Bill!" Zoey shouted.

The Tank shoved several zombies aside with a sweep of its arms, then brought its fists down in a hammer blow on the incapacitated war vet.

"Help! He's killin' me!" Bill screamed.

I knew we only had one chance.

"Puke in the hole!" I said, pulling the bile jar from my belt and chucking it as hard as I could. The jar shattered on the Tank's back. The smell was awful, and when that freak turned around it didn't look too happy. It growled and started lumbering towards me...

And then we couldn't see the Tank at all. Every zombie we were dealing with amassed on the Tank, along with dozens more that scrambled over the fences or poured out of buildings. It tried to throw and smash some of the jabbering horde, but in seconds it was overwhelmed by the sheer numbers of angry zombies, every one of them clawing for a piece of its hide.

"Whoo! Baby all right! Time fo' a beat down!"

"Mosh pit!" Zoey cheered, laughing.

"Now _that's _a brawl!" Francis roared, fist in the air.

"C'mon let's help Bill before those zombies are done," I said. We got the old vet back on his feet and just in time. The horde of commoners turned to us, but it was easy work to gun them all down since they were in a tight group. The adrenaline rush was leaving us as the last zombie fell. Bill was panting, he'd been beaten pretty hard, but he didn't even bother to heal himself. He just took off in a dead sprint to the abandoned building where he'd left Eris.

"Get back here you crazy old buzzard so we can heal ya!" Francis yelled. We went after him, all of us worried about what had _him _so worried.

"Eris! Sweetheart, are you alright?" We heard Bill's muffled voice.

"Oh my God! Is she awake?" Zoey asked as we caught up.

She wasn't. Eris was sobbing into Bill's shoulder but not holding him. She gave no sign she was aware of his presence, but the old vet didn't seem to care about that. Bill held Eris in his arms, stroking her back and gently whispering to her. She was still comatose, yet she'd reacted to something.

"Can't believe I didn't hear her crying." Francis said. Zoey and I exchanged looks; none of us heard Eris crying outside the door.

"Bill, why'd you freeze up back there with that Tank fight?" Zoey added.

"I heard her." Bill said, keeping his eyes on his trembling lover.

"Say what?"

"She screamed. I... I heard her during the fight. She called my name," Bill said as he cuddled her on the dingy floor.

"Horse shit," I said, putting a gruff sound to my voice as I tried to mimic Bill. Francis chuckled a little, but Bill didn't notice, or didn't care.

"I swear I heard her call my name, right after that common zombie punched me and I yelled. She yelled for me again after that Tank clobbered me too."

"How hard did that Tank hit you, old man?" Francis asked. "'Cause I think he sent you sailing straight into Crazytown."

"Cut him a break Francis."

Our tattooed comrade just rolled his eyes. I swear the man wouldn't know sympathy if she had big tits and started grinding on his lap. Eris' crying was still better than her being as lively as a vegetable.

"Whatever Louis. I still think Bill's off his nut."

"Biiiillll..."

We froze. Eris' eyes were still shut, but she'd said his name amidst her sobbing.

"I'm here sweetheart, I'm right here!" Bill said, staring her in the face. Eris didn't open her eyes, but she leaned into his shoulder, her sobbing finally beginning to trail off as her body shook. Bill slid his arms under her and picked her up, settling for a bridal carry for now. And when Eris wrapped her arms around his neck, I couldn't help but smile at the two of them, despite how grim things were. Bill wasn't crazy. Eris must've heard the battle, heard Bill's cry for help, and though she couldn't do anything about it, she'd called out to him. All signs that she was coming back to us.

"She's gonna be alright Bill. I have a good feeling about this."

"Thanks Louis." And the way he looked at me, I knew he meant it.

There was hope yet.

All of us waited until Eris' sobbing let up, the old vet cradling her the whole time. When she'd finally calmed down, we picked up where we left off... fighting our way to the next safe house, and hopefully getting one step closer to finding a boat.

.

* * *

.

"Louis? Louis wake up."

The dark man's eyes popped open to a pair of baby blue eyes atop a cute nose and delicate pink lips pulled into a lop-sided smile, and the sound of what could only be called obnoxious snoring coming from the floor.

"Oh man... how long was I out?" Louis groaned.

"Not sure," Zoey said, affectionately wiping some dried drool from his chin. "But you needed it."

"I'm sorry Zoey. I let you down..."

Zoey's lop sided smile turned into a full out grin. "Well technically you let _us _down, but I'm flattered you were only thinking about me. Besides it's not a big deal. Like you said, none of the specials should be able to get up here, but it was still comforting to know you were keeping watch... even if you slept through your shift," she added with a cocky smile.

Louis stretched, rubbing his lower back which was decidedly sore from the way he'd passed out in that chair. "So... I guess you're next?"

"Yeah. I don't know how I'll get back to sleep with the 'ole chainsaw over there," she sighed, thumbing at Francis. Louis chuckled and looked for the closest spot to lay down so as not to risk hurting his already injured leg. He settled for under the table, stretching out in Zoey's former spot.

"No funny stuff under there mister." Zoey said, looking between her legs to find Louis' head near her feet.

"Like whaaaa...?" Louis yawned, interrupting himself. "... think I'm gonna try to look up your _jeans?_"

"Good point."

"Besides..." he said sleepily, gently squeezing her calf. "I'd only be frustrating myself..."

The auburn-haired cutie felt her heart flutter for just a moment. He thought _he _was frustrated? She wasn't sure if he was just being flirty or if there was more to it, but not knowing was frustrating the hell out of her. The college girl didn't regret sleeping with all of them, back when it had happened things were different. But now her heart was pulling her in a monogamous direction, straight towards Louis.

"You wouldn't be the only one frustrated," Zoey said, peering under the table again.

Louis was out like a light.

She sighed, settling down in the chair which was still warm from Louis' taut derriere. Damn it there she went again. She'd been looking at him in a different light since they'd been "rescued." And it didn't matter how crazy things got for the group, she still found her thoughts drifting to him. A long sigh escaped her lips as she watched the rain fall steadily outside, thinking about how everything was turned upside down for them during their second leg of the journey through Rayford...

.

* * *

.

The fight with the Tank took a lot out of us, as well as the rest of the trek through the brick factory. The moment we reached that dingy safe room we'd fallen asleep. I don't know how many hours had passed, but I could have used more. I woke first, the smell of the pungent breeze littered with ash and blood made me want to retch. I'd smelled worse, but something about the smell of death mixed with the harbor town's fishy smell was making my stomach do more somersaults than a star gymnast.

The room was littered with CEDA posters about personal health and safety during this "green flu." Green... like that Boomer bile Louis used to drench the Tank. Ugh, that made me feel even more sick. I looked outside; the sky was overcast, though whether or not that was nature or the endless number of burning buildings adding their pollution to the sky, I couldn't be sure.

I felt a familiar hand reflexively squeeze my side; Louis was asleep next to me. I remembered being chilly, shivering a bit in my sleep, then suddenly I felt a warm presence behind me. When I realized it was him, I felt my heart racing a mile a minute. If I wasn't so tired and so frustrated with our circumstances, I'd be all about warming him up in my own way. And there I go again thinking about him like that. Then again, Francis' snoring wouldn't have helped set a mood anyway. The biker had taken a corner of the room by the small table, asleep in a sitting position against the wall with his shotgun lazily leaning on his shoulder, the butt tucked by his hip. Bill lay behind Eris on a dirty mattress, the veteran spooning our comatose gray friend.

Eris... poor, sweet Eris. I'd almost given up on the angelic Siren ever regaining consciousness, until that battle with the Tank. God only knew what was going on inside her subconscious. Had she heard the roar of the Tank, or was it Bill's scream? And poor Bill. It hurt me to see him like this, even though I wasn't entirely happy with him right now.

I took a moment to appreciate the silence I had to myself, looking around the room. The brick walls were covered with the usual apocalypse graffiti of survivors gone before them: Notes to loved ones hoping they'd find them, words of bitterness or disdain that humanity brought this plague on itself, the retorts of other people who felt otherwise, drawings of some of the infected they'd encountered, and of course.. tick marks. The worst thing about those four vertical lines connected by a diagonal slash was _what _they counted. It could be the number of zombies killed, or the number of days the survivor had waited in this room for rescue before ultimately realizing there would be none.

However one thing was certain: No matter who had written what, it was a safe bet that nearly every one of them was dead. Or just outside the safe room door, bloody, drooling, and ready to attack in a babbling rage at a moment's notice.

Louis' arm fell from my waist as I slowly sat up, running my fingers through my hair to untangle it. Everyone was on edge, having just survived the battle of the century and still processing the outcome. Tyre was dead, but at a great cost. Eris was comatose, and Bill was dealing with it the way a soldier was trained to deal with personal loss: Containing it quietly.

It was only a matter of time before he blew up.

I thought about my argument with Bill on the train. Was society truly done for? Were the last pockets of humanity only prolonging the inevitable if they stayed on the mainland? It ended with us "agreeing to disagree" when Bill called me a naive college girl who refused to accept that the world was permanently changed. I couldn't help but scoff at that remark, with Eris laying there comatose on the floor and Bill watching over her in the hopes of a very slim chance that she would wake. Talk about the kettle calling the pot black. It was painfully obvious as to _who_ was in denial, but I wouldn't strike that low. I love Eris almost as much as he does, and God knew I wanted my gray friend back with us.

Even though I didn't say anything, Bill caught the look in my eyes when I first glared at him and then at Eris. I may as well have spat in his face, and I felt awful about it. But that didn't change my opinion.

"'Morning Zoey." Louis was awake, snapping me out of my thoughts when his arms wrapped around my waist in a hug. I held my breath out of excitement, but he must have read me wrong, thinking he was invading my personal space. He stopped himself and tried to play it off instead by doing the typical wake up stretch.

"Good morning Louis," I sighed, slipping my arms around his waist while his arms were in the air. He stiffened for a moment before returning the gesture. I never thought Louis would've felt awkward touching me, and I never thought I'd be disappointed by him being reluctant. I'm sure he was only concerned how his feelings would be returned, trying to keep them to himself so as not to create an awkward situation. If only he knew...

"Did you sleep well?" He asked.

"Not really, but thanks for keeping me warm." I said, nuzzling his chest.

"My pleasure, Zoey."

"Grrrgh. Are we on some damn time table? Is that boat gonna float away?" Francis growled, waking next. "Because if not, I could've used some more sleep."

"We're up now anyway, might as well get moving," a gruff voice said. Bill had woke too, gently caressing Eris' gray cheek as he sat up. Francis grumbled and arched his back, trying to banish the cold of the brick wall from his spine. I let go of Louis, reluctantly, so we could retrieve our weapons. I caught Bill staring at me, and I'm not usually so petty, but I couldn't help but glare back. Childish I know, but still...

"Zoey... I know you're mad at me..." Bill started.

"_And here it comes... the same song and dance.._." I thought.

"I really don't want to hear it Bill."

"Zoey listen, the five of us are all that matters now."

_Why the hell are you saying damn near verbatim the same lines you said on the train? What, does he think I'm going to magically change my mind and go, "Why yes Bill, you're absolutely right! Fuck the rest of humanity and lets go live on an island for the rest of our lives, even though we'll likely all die of starvation, disease, or just out right killing each other out of frustration. And while we're at it, you may as well leave Eris to die in this safe room because she's just a useless mouth to feed and can't contribute to our new life as a society of five fucking people."_

Of course, I didn't say that...

"Bill, I am NOT ready to give up on everything just yet." I said low and evenly, trying to dismiss this argument.

Fat chance. "For God's sake Zoey we trusted the military, and look how _that _turned out! We stopped one maniac from bringing this virus world wide, but damn it I'm too old to keep playing the hero." The war vet grunted, hefting Eris onto his back. The Siren unconsciously wrapped her arms around his shoulders, her legs tucked into his arms. She was holding onto him piggyback style in her comatose state; it was a miracle she could even do that.

"So this is really it, we're gonna run away to some island?" I said flatly, blowing an errant strand of blood-crusted hair out of my eyes. Lord, I'd kill for a hot shower. "So long world, good luck with all the zombies?"

Bill simply grumbled, "We're on our own kid, and it's high time you started actin' like it."

"And what about Dr. Allan? Or Alexis? Do you throw them in with the rest of the military lot? Or how about Xavier and Heather? Do you think they died just because they believed in saving _us?_ You said it yourself, they believed in saving _humanity!" _My temper was rising fast, and this wasn't a good time to-

Louis interjected. "You know what I'm gonna like about this? No more I.T. I will _never_ have to tell another human being to reboot their damn computer. I think this island idea is the best thing for us. We're gonna find that sailboat right around the corner, you just watch."

"Louis, if you don't stop talking positive, I'm gonna sink the boat just to make you sad," Francis said, double checking his Benelli M4 for a fully loaded clip.

"Thinking positive got me where I am Francis."

"About to die in a brick factory? 'Cause I'm about to do that too, and I got to complain about shit the whole time."

Louis simply rolled his eyes, but then he caught me sulking. I didn't like him seeing me this way, after all I didn't want him to think I really was a spoiled college girl, even though I was at one point. But that part of my life was over. And while all of us were forced to leave our old lives behind, I felt we still had a choice about trying to get things somewhat back to "normal." Louis would be lying if he said he was 100% for ditching civilization for island life. Though he's about five years older than me, we're of the younger generation, much more accustomed to technology. Having all of it simply ripped out of our lives, save for our weapons, was going to be one hell of an adjustment. He shot me a quick smile before slinging his rifle over his shoulder.

"_God he's sweet, so much sometimes it makes my teeth hurt." _I thought, though not unpleasantly as I watched him rub wrinkles out of his blood-stained white dress shirt as though he were getting ready for work in the morning.

"Alright people let's go," Bill said. "We've still got a bit of ground to cover."

The trek from the abandoned brick factory to the harbor wasn't all that bad. It was short and mostly uneventful, save for a heart pounding moment when we had to climb a huge pile of gravel to the top of an unloading chute jutting from a huge cargo tanker. As Louis had said, it was like running in place, it being especially difficult for Bill since he had Eris' body weight to add to his. And when that murder of crows took off cawing, I wanted so badly to shoot at least one of the blasted noisy birds right out of the sky. The horde that followed almost got us, but we made it into the chute just in time, and it was relatively easy to hold the mob off from both directions as they were forced to charge single file.

After a quick trip down the length of the ship, we climbed down over the bow. Ahead was a small wall which we were able to scale thanks to some well placed packing crates. And when I saw that familiar "house with a cross in it" graffiti, I knew we were close. Said safe house icon pointed to a small loading bay behind an old building. We passed some tools and an old truck in the garage/loading area, then we climbed up into the warehouse portion of the building.

"Safe house is right around the corner," I said as we rounded a group of supply shelves littered with dusty old items.

Until a familiar face showed up, halting all of us dead in our tracks.

"Horse shit... "Bill whispered.

"You gotta be kidding..." Louis hissed.

"Gotta admit it's been a while since we saw one..." Francis mumbled, readying his auto-shotgun.

In front of the safe room door was an anorexic-looking, sobbing gray-skinned woman. Waist-length white hair a stringy mess, tattered underclothes stained with blood and grime, long deadly fingernails covering her likely gaunt and terrifying gray face. And of course, that signature sobbing which surprisingly had caught all of us off guard, even though we could typically hear it from a ways away.

"_I haven't 'seen' a witch since my nightmares..."_

"So what do we do?" I asked. At the time it was a pretty stupid question.

Francis smirked. "The same thing I always did when I saw a damn witch." He said, cocking his shotgun.

"Yeah Francis but if you trip over your shoelaces this time, I don't think it'll be as clean a getaway as it was before," Louis quipped. I stifled a giggle, and even Bill couldn't help but smile a little, though it was gone faster than it arrived as he thought again of that time when they'd first "met" Eris. Francis' cocky attitude would've cost him his life it she'd been an actual witch. He'd gotten lucky.

"No sense taking that chance again," Bill said softly, grunting a little as his love squeezed his shoulders unconsciously.

"And how do you suggest we get by her?" Francis growled, still eying the witch's bowed head. The perfect target for a well placed shotgun shell.

"One at a time," I whispered, quickly tiptoeing past the sobbing infected. She gasped as I went by, and I froze when those red-yellow eyes burned into me. Her warning growl snapped me out of it though, and I damn near ran into the safe room. Louis went next, and once again I felt my heart race as the witch growled at him. I almost hugged him when he slipped through the red door. Francis went by next, and the tough biker nearly lost his cool when the witch became exceptionally agitated. She started howling and stood up, shaking her razor sharp claws about her head as though swatting flies. Francis barreled through the door, but I stopped him from slamming it shut. Any loud noise could set her off.

And that left Bill. He backed away a few paces with our silent Siren on his back, waiting for the witch to calm down. The witch growled over her shoulder, glaring daggers at the three of us in the safe house before resuming her sobbing. But instead of sitting back down, she covered her face and began to walk away from the safe room...

Straight towards Bill.

"Oh shit..." The small loading area was cramped, nowhere near enough room to let the witch pass without bumping into her, especially while carrying Eris. The war vet, unable to look over his shoulder, backed away slowly from the crying woman who continued her shambling walk forward. With a gentle thump, his heel touched the wall behind him. This couldn't possibly get any worse.

Then Eris began to cry.

Bill froze, the quiet sobs of his lover causing the witch to look up in surprise. She growled louder, her long, blood-stained claws flickering as she closed the distance. My heart was pounding, it was the first time I'd seen Bill so afraid. She was getting closer, and I could only imagine what it was like for Bill, getting toe to toe with an angry witch: Those crimson-yellowish eyes boring into his, her brows furrowed in fury. Francis was slowly creeping forward, shotgun at the ready. The witch raised her hand to Bill's head, growling even louder, and I nearly squeaked that she might strike...

But she paused for a moment, as though the sobbing, gray woman on Bill's shoulder was oddly familiar. And then she reached past him, gently stroking her cheek. Bill held perfectly still, and Eris calmed down to quiet sniffles at the caress on her cheek. The witch fell silent, no doubt intrigued by the favorable reaction her touch had on the other grieving woman.

Francis was almost there; in another couple paces he'd ruin Bill's jacket by splattering it with the witch's brains.

"Francis, don't..." Louis whispered so softly he could barely hear it himself.

I touched his arm gently, shaking my head. Francis held his ground but kept his shotgun leveled at the witch's back.

Eris shivered and buried her face into Bill's neck, her crying now reduced to gentle, ragged breathing. The witch drew back and stared at the man carrying her sobbing "sister" as though he were a complex riddle. After a handful of intense heart-pounding seconds, the witch began sobbing again. Maybe I was imagining it, or maybe I was just scared shitless for Bill, but the witch's behavior seemed almost... sympathetic.

And then I knew I'd lost it.

The witch gently cupped the veteran's cheek in one hand, trying to comfort him in the same way she'd done to Eris. After another few heart-pounding seconds, the gray griever returned her hands to her face and turned away from the motionless war vet, shambling out of the loading bay, leaving all of us to stare at each other, slack-jawed.

"Ah... Bill... you okay?" I asked half-heartedly. I couldn't break away from watching the sobbing witch, who by all rights should've killed him, was instead walking out of the garage doors into the street.

Bill let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. "I... I'm fine, just a little shaken... and perplexed."

We hurried into the safe room, welcome for the reprieve before the next round against the armies of the infected. Though it wasn't night time just yet, all of us were haggard and exhausted from the fight. Getting even an hour of solid sleep in these safe rooms was a blessing, what with the angry hordes just outside the doors banging and clawing to get in.

"Swore I was gonna have to ruin your clothes there," Francis said, sounding almost a little disappointed as he removed his vest, sitting on a wooden chair.

"Me too," Bill said as he slowly sat on the floor and pulled Eris' claws from his shoulders. The gray goddess let go reluctantly and curled into a ball on the floor. The war vet removed his jacket and lay it over his lover's shoulders to keep her warm. "But what really got me was... never mind."

"What?" I asked.

Bill shook his head. "I'm just imagining things."

"Old man, after all we've been through, _nothing_ would surprise me," Francis said.

"Yeah, spill it," I said urging him.

The war vet sighed. "That witch. She looked so sad when she touched Eris. But then she looked at me... and her eyes... it was as though she was pitying _me_."

"Yeah that was some crazy ass shit." Louis said, shaking his head as he barred the steel reinforced door. "Who ever heard of a 'witch' with compassion?" The war vet smirked at him, shooting a look at his lover who'd pulled his jacket into a bundle in her arms. "Oh come on Bill. We all know Eris is unique, but that was a _witch_! And she was about to tear you apart."

I couldn't help myself. This was just too perfect.

"Yeah... but she didn't," I said, placing my rifle and katana in a corner of the room. Everyone's eyes followed me as I removed my pink hoodie, tossing it into the same corner. "She could've just given into her viral rage, but Eris' crying struck something in her." I casually untied my pony tail next, sighing at the relief of letting my hair spill over my shoulders. I almost giggled at Louis, staring at me the way he was. He seemed disappointed when I didn't remove anything else. "She went against her gut feelings to rip you apart... and she _comforted _you instead."

"Hey I never said comfort. I said pity-"

"_I _saw it," I said with a smirk. "She touched your face. I thought maybe I was seeing things, but after hearing you say that..."

The grizzled war veteran sighed. He knew he'd been caught. "Zoey what's your point?"

I smiled wryly as I prepared my space on the floor to sleep, using my hoodie as a pillow. "Her _humanity _prevailed over this virus, even if only for a moment. And like Louis said, that was some crazy ass shit, but like Francis said, it's not the craziest thing we've seen. Eris prevailed over a lot too... death itself in fact."

Bill opened his mouth but I cut him off.

"But only because _you _didn't give up on her. If you had, she'd be dead in that train yard, but you didn't because she was worth fighting for. And that's why I'm mad at you Bill, because you're a hypocrite. You were furious when Eris had sacrificed herself to save us, that she shouldn't have done something so 'selfish' and yet it's perfectly fine for you to do that? You're always thinking about the welfare of us over yourself, but you won't extend that gesture to the rest of the world? You'll try and go out in a blaze of glory to save us, just a handful of people, but when it comes to the rest of the human race you're content to abandon society and sail away to an island?"

The old bird was getting frustrated. "Christ Zoey! You make it sound like we're a bunch of superheroes or something and I've decided to retire us from the 'world-saving' game. As if us staying around, trying to find another pocket of civilization that _isn't _corrupt or under the guise of a conspiracy would be a testament to saving the rest of the world. Well I've got news for you, it isn't. Five people can't save the world Zoey."

"Oh? But one person can?" I asked, looking at Eris; still comatose, still silent. Another low blow, but damn it I was tired of this. _"She _tried to bring down Tyre, a man ready to dominate the world, by herself. And she might've done it without you, though it would've cost her life. I think Eris saved the world, don't you Bill? And she wasn't even trying to. She was just trying to save _us._"

Bill was looking at Eris again, no doubt caught up in the silent, nearly lifeless results of the sacrifice his woman tried to make for all of us. But I was on a roll and not about to stop. "Bill... you're only one person, and you tried to sacrifice yourself to save us. Had you succeeded, do you think we would've given up on the rest of the world because you were gone? Of course not, but it's okay to give up after Heather and Xavier died for us? You said it yourself: 'They gave up their future so _we_ could have ours.' And now you're ready to throw that away for some stupid island?"

Francis grumbled as he lay down next. "Yeah... stupid island."

"Punk island," Louis retorted.

"Dumb ass island shit hole," Francis said, smiling a little.

"Punk ass _bitch _island," Louis added with a laugh, finding his place on the floor.

And that pretty much ended the argument. I started laughing, and before I knew it, all of us chuckled, save Bill who snuggled behind his lover, gently squeezing her shoulders. Eris made no indication he was next to her, only clutched his jacket. Francis took his spot by himself, while Louis decided to snuggle up behind me as we laid down. Maybe he was concerned I'd be cold again, but at the moment I didn't care _why_ he was next to me, I was simply happy to be close to him. We all lay there in silence, until the sound of Francis snoring punctuated the moment. Louis nodded off next, his gentle breathing relaxing me. I shut my eyes, hoping that despite the tension in the air I could fall asleep, but as exhausted as I was, both physically and mentally, I could not.

Apparently Bill couldn't either. I heard him whispering to himself; I guess he figured all of us to be asleep, but rather than let on I was awake still, I kept my eyes closed and listened. My words must've really struck home, because he'd began arguing with himself in a quiet whisper.

"Am I giving up? Is sailing away to a defensible location giving up? No of course not! But how long do we plan on staying there? Forever? Forever's a long time. And what if Eris never wakes? How long will I take care of her? No, don't say that! She will wake! And I'll take care of her as long as I have to!"

There was some silence and I dared to peek through one slitted eye. Bill was behind Eris, leaning on an elbow staring down at her. He looked so hurt as he gently stroked her cheek, who lay there her with face twisted in sadness as she clutched his jacket. God I wanted to cry for both of them.

"And what if she's comatose forever? Forever is a long time..." he said.

But I'm sure Bill didn't feel like he was giving up on Eris, or anyone frankly, merely following the most logical course of action. As for Eris... there was nothing logical about that. The most logical decision would've been to give up reviving her after all of them were exhausted from CPR. But Bill threw logic to the wind and kept going, would've until his arms had fallen off if it came to that.

Yeah he was turning into quite the hypocrite, but he didn't seem to care.

"I love you Eris." He whispered.

Silence.

I heard him sigh once more before laying down, and despite our disagreement I still cared dearly for the old fool. I closed the conversation in my mind, letting the gentle sound of Louis' breathing lull me to sleep.

.

* * *

.

"Hey, you alright?"

Zoey felt something wet on her chin, then she realized she'd been crying. She blinked away the tears quickly, not expecting who she saw.

"I'm fine Francis."

"Hey, I'm sorry about earlier," Francis said. "I know you guys all think of me as the pessimistic asshole who hates everything, and you're right..."

Zoey couldn't stop the giggle, and Francis smiled at that.

"But that's what life is darlin'." He continued. "Especially now. You're a smart girl, and our situation isn't exactly a happy ending..." he paused, rubbing his goatee. "You know those mystery movies where some crime has been committed, like a murder or something?"

"Yeah where they find out its never the most likely suspect, but some crazy off the wall twist?" Zoey said, perking up a little. If there was one thing that could get Zoey excited, it was movies.

Francis nodded. He was going somewhere with this. "Yeah except in real life it's almost _always _the most likely suspect. The rest of the time its usually some deranged idiot who did it for no reason. Or like when someone accuses you of shoplifting and you swear you were wearing those three leather vests when you walked in because it was cold out and you just forgot to remove the price tags..."

The college girl nearly fell out of her chair at that one. "Francis," she laughed, trying to keep her voice down, "Now I remember why I don't hate you."

The biker chuckled. "I don't hate you either, but I do hate that it's time for my shift."

"Thanks Francis. I don't know if I'll be able to get back to sleep, but..."

"Want some help with that?" He asked, a wolfish grin on his face.

Zoey shook her head. "Sorry Francis, but I..."

"I'm kidding." He said, brushing it off. "Doesn't hurt my pride, I know why." He glanced at the sleeping systems analyst. "Louis is a lucky son of a-"

Zoey gently pecked his lips, cutting him off. "Thanks Francis."

"No problem." Francis settled into the chair that Zoey's cute little rear end had warmed. He watched her crawl beneath the table, snuggling against Louis' back. Contrary to her doubts about being able to fall asleep, Zoey was out in no time.

The biker grumbled a little at the situation. He wasn't jealous. Only frustrated at the fact that he'd lost a means to "relieve stress" in a very pleasant way. Yet another reason he hated the "island plan."

"I hate sharing," Francis mumbled to himself. He'd put up with it in the beginning given their circumstances, and would be prepared to put up with it if they were all stranded on an island. Beggars couldn't be choosers. But now with Zoey's heart set on Louis, he wouldn't be seeing any action at all from the petite college girl. However, if they stayed on the mainland there was still a slim chance they'd run into another woman who wasn't a rage-babbling freak. He could manage for a while, after all his right hand had been a close friend even before the outbreak for those nights he couldn't get laid.

But the thought of doing that for the rest of his life... shit on a shingle, his palms would probably bleed from overuse.

"Alexis... damn it why didn't you come with us?" Francis sighed. That sultry R.N. with her exotic coca skin, mischievous eyes, and flirty hands had been on his mind since he'd last talked to her. He'd never thought of himself as a guy going for a black chick. Not that he was racist or anything, he'd just never seen that in his circle of bikers. Not to mention growing up, interracial couples was frowned upon in his household. But that chocolate cutie's smile could melt ice, and that spry attitude of hers was right up his alley. Not to mention she had more curves than a mountain road, and damn it how he wished he was driving that road with his tongue...

But the radio was gone. There was no way for them to contact the base and update them. For all the rest of the world knew, they no longer existed among the living. Like Bill... and Eris.

Eris. That gray beauty sure was one helluva... somethin'. The thought of trying to kill her back then seemed like a distant memory, and now that she was gone even _he _felt a little depressed. She was a great teammate, tough as nails in a fight. Yet he missed her soft side too. He even missed the way she hugged on the old man like he had honey dripping out of his ears. It was so sweet it was sickening, and yet things didn't feel the same without either of them. Sure he, Louis, and Zoey would get along okay, even if he was the third wheel. Hell, if it got bad enough he'd just take the damn boat and sail back to the mainland himself; he'd probably be sick of that island in the first couple days anyway, with no zombie killing action nor a way to relieve his nightly tension.

"Hell I'd fight my way all the way back to that military base, and then..." Francis growled lustily, his mind wandering to a place his body had longed to journey: Alexis waiting for him at that base, beckoning him with a "come hither" gesture in that sexy nurse' outfit of hers that showed sooo much cleavage. And oh how he'd love to rip that top off her, the buttons flying like stray bullets as those massive tits sprung into his greedy hands. To hear her moan and purr as he suckled them and ran his fingers beneath the waistband of her nurse's skirt to rub her moistening midnight garden beneath her panties.

"_Ooohh... Francis," she moaned throatily as the biker's thick fingers dabbled between her legs, his index finger gently parting her delicate folds. Her hand grabbed his wrist, urging him to push his fingers deeper into her hungry opening. His lips pinched her hardening nipples through her white laced brassiere, sending arcs of electricity up her body. She slipped her other hand between their bodies, palm running over the large bulge barely contained by his jeans. She purred, giving a playful squeeze. "I've missed you, big boy."_

"_Mmmmhmm..." Francis mumbled, his other hand having worked its magic on her bra. The cups flew apart from the middle as her bosom was set free. He sucked a bare breast into her mouth, his tongue swirling over the crinkles in her areola. Her nipple tasted like exotic sin, the taste of raging pheromones and passion sweat. Her tits were huge yet buoyant as they defied gravity. Full and perky, just how he liked his women. Her long black curls dangled by his head, tickling him. He wondered if her long hair was an exotic weave or her own._

_Either way, it was turning him on. _

_Francis' thumb rolled over her pleasure button, flickering while his index and middle fingers slowly pumped in and out of her. Alexis drew in a sharp gasp of surprise. Her nails dug into his wrist and he felt her teeth nip his neck as a moan of wanton lust escaped her lips. She suckled so hard she'd left a bruise, and her hungry lips found his ear next, nipping his lobe._

"_You want me baby?" He growled, releasing her breast from his lips, now rolling the rock hard nipple between his fingers while his other hand continued to play her sex like a master guitarist strummed his axe. _

_Alexis groaned and brought her hands to his face, pulling him for a deep kiss. Their tongues flickered together, her soft lips sealing against his. She pulled away, that talented tongue running over her supple lips. Lips that curved into a slight smile as she stared him in the eyes. "Does a biker love tattoos?"_

_The biker wouldn't dignify that question with a verbal response. Instead he began to crouch, running his tongue between her cleavage. He removed his fingers from her dripping sex, hooking them into her panties. Alexis hastily unfastened the buttons that didn't fly off when Francis attacked her chest, trying to unbutton them so as not to impede his southward-bound tongue. She growled and ripped her nurse outfit from her arms, tossing it aside. _

_Francis drank in the beauty that was his naughty nurse. Revealed from the confines of that crisp white uniform was a white lace garter belt that held up sheer white stockings. The garter belt ran just below her belly button, which held a simple diamond belly piercing. Crowning these sexy undergarments was a pair of white see-through lace panties that "protected the property but didn't obscure the view." They weren't in place long though. The eager survivor was already drawing the soaked undergarment all the way down to her white high heels._

"_Damn you're clothes are sexy," Francis whispered, looking up at his lover between her supple, perky tits._

"_Yours too," she purred, cupping and squeezing her twin mountains. "But they'd look better in a pile next to my bed."_

"_That's my line," Francis said, crawling up onto her on her... bed? When did they get to a bedroom? When did they even lay down? Hell, who cared? He ripped away his vest and his lover's hands tore away his shirt. The pants were next, his hands fumbling with the belt. Of all the times to have butter fingers..._

_Alexis giggled and forcefully flipped him on his back, crawling over him like a prowling panther. She swatted his hands aside as she worked his belt, deliberately taking her time. She slowly drew his pants and boxers down his hairy legs. The moment his clothing passed his thighs, his thick throbbing manhood pointed at her in lustful accusation, she being directly to blame for this arousal._

_She ran her tongue up his leg, tracing his inner thigh, all the way to his balls, then up the vein-pulsing shaft that punctuated his desire for her. She tenderly kissed the tip, his cock quivering like a tuning fork._

"_Oohhh, do you want me to ride this 'hog''?" She purred, straddling him, her sexy chocolate thighs still in their sheer white stockings. The biker felt her hands grasp his cock, guiding it into her dripping sex._

"_Yes..." he growled. "Ride my 'hog.'" His hands gripped her hips, urging her to impale herself on him, but she resisted, smiling wryly at him._

"_You didn't say please.." she faux pouted, placing a finger to her lips._

_Francis chuckled and raised his hips, the thick head of his cock nudging her clit. Alexis' entire body shivered._

"_Pretty please, beautiful? Ride me long and hard and put me away soaked with our sweat."_

_Alexis stared at him slack-jawed for a second, then dropped down so hard and fast, Francis felt his balls slap her ass._

"_Ooooohhh! Gaahhh... fuck that's biiiig," She squealed. Francis grit his teeth, he'd nearly cum just from the sudden pressure of that hot wet vice engulfing his entire cock in one shot. His sexy R.N.'s eyes were closed as she panted, her palms pawing his pecs._

"_Christ you're so tight," Francis groaned, reflexively bucking his hips. Alexis ground her ass into him, flexing her pussy around his shaft as though trying to milk the cum from his balls. The walls of her insides felt like they had a mind of their own, pulsing around him._

"_Never... had my... uughh... breath...haah...breath taken... ahhh...on the... rrggh... first... thrust," Alexis panted, her words dotted with the loud, steady "thwack!" of the biker's thighs against her ass as he bucked her. Her nails dug into his chest as she established a rhythm, riding him with a slow, steady thrusting. Those delectable tits swung like ripe fruit over his face. He lanced his tongue to lick a nipple as it swung past him, it's owner groaning in frustration._

"_Suck them," She commanded, grinding her hips and holding her breasts for effect._

"_You didn't say plea-mmmphh!"_

_Francis mouth was stuffed with a breast, Alexis smirking at him as she forced him to suckle. He flexed his abs, his cock pushing against her tummy from inside as he fucked her. Alexis mewled and squeezed his shoulders, their rough, sweaty coupling picking up momentum._

_The biker couldn't get enough of the nurse's tits, going back and forth between them like a kid with an ice cream cone in each hand. Whichever nipple wasn't between his lips was between his fingers instead, his other free hand squeezing or slapping a supple ass cheek. As their screwing became more primal, so did Francis' hunger. He grabbed her breasts and sucked both nipples at once._

"_Unnghh... haah.. haah... hard... harder," Alexis gasped. "Hurt me Francis. Gawd I wanna feel this... haah...wonderful cock... in my cervix. Aaaggh... I'm already...so close..."_

_Francis was getting close himself, and Alexis' dirty pleading was going to bring him over the edge. He sat up suddenly, nearly throwing her off of him. The curvaceous R.N. yelped as she landed on her back, the muscular biker's length slipping from her. His calloused hands grabbed the tops of her thighs as he knelt between them._

_Alexis was about to say something coy, but only a cry escaped her lips as she felt herself forcefully stuffed once more. Francis rammed into her so hard she nearly hit the headboard. The biker thrust his hips forward while pulling on her thighs at the same time, every thrust feeling deeper than before. Alexis' eyes rolled into the back of her head, her ankles hooking around his legs as they fucked like wild beasts._

"_You're so beautiful... when you... look at me... like that," Francis said between breaths. Alexis moaned, refocusing on him._

"_Haah... look at you? I... aahh God... can barely...see straight..."_

"_I know," Francis chuckled. "And it's so hot."_

_Alexis cried out and suddenly brought a hand to her clit, rubbing it like she was trying to start a fire._

"_Fuck... gonna cum..." She gasped. "Gonna..."_

"_Me too... where do you..."_

"_My tits! Fuck! Aaahh... yes! Spray it all over my tits you corn-fed stud... AAAGGHHH!"_

"_Here it coommess! AAARRGGHH!"_

_Francis roared with her, pulling out just as the first spurt shot from his throbbing cock right over her tits, catching her in the face. The second and third rope hit their mark on her breasts, running down with the sweat they'd worked up together. A forth spurt fell short on her tummy, but Alexis didn't mind in the slightest. After several more spasms, Francis collapsed on top of her, his act leaving him spent. The two lovers lay in each others arms, ragged breathing being the only sound in the room for a few minutes._

"_Mmmm..." Alexis ran her fingers on her cheek, sucking off the cum she'd gathered there. "Your cum is delectable," she whispered in his ear, her other hand lazily tracing up his spine. "Think you can give me some more?"_

_Francis chuckled, staring her in the face as his softening length pressed against her soaked garden. "Anytime, anywhere..."_

"_That's my line," She giggled._

_Francis was about to say something coy when a loud crash cut him off._

_.._

The boom of another thunderbolt banished the biker's fantasy from his minds. Zoey and Louis stirred beneath the table at the noise, causing him to look down. He'd completely forgotten they were even there. Frustrated as he was, he wasn't about to risk waking them.

But damn it his pants were chaffing him something awful.

He groaned softly and ran a palm over his face, refocusing on what lay ahead. They were going to help these other survivors lower the bridge, and if it was anything like the fight to raise it, there were all going to have to be on their "A" game.

"Damn I wish we could do that one again..." the biker sighed, his lusts cooling at the memory of their last battle. "That bridge fight was bullshit..."

.

* * *

.

After that little incident with the "crazy" witch, we'd all tried to get some shuteye. I woke up first to one of those jabbering vampires at the safe room door, trying to reach through the bars. She was kinda cute in that blood stained, missing teeth, ready to claw your eyes out sort of way. I pulled out the collapsible stock on my M4, chuckling at how much fun it would be to wake everyone up with the sound of my shotgun blowing her head off.

But there was nothin'. Frickin' nothin'! No boom, just click-click. Checked the damn shotgun, loaded and ready. Then I remember what the old fart told me: "Dag nabbit Francis, you gotta clean your shotgun or it's gonna just quit workin' on ya... or it'll go off in your face like a twice-screwed, once-paid hooker!"

'Course he'd swear that's not what he said, or how he said it. Probably right. Everything he says sounds like nagging or garbage to me, especially that stupid island plan. So that's how I spent the first half hour of the afternoon, cleaning my M4 and all the while that commoner vampire was still jabbering at me. After about ten minutes I noticed she wasn't making much noise. She was just kinda half leaning against the door, exhausted. All those commoners looked haggard, and yet when they spotted us they got that burst of energy again to chase after us. I stared at her for a moment, and she stared back with a more pissed off expression than my ex-girlfriend during her time of the month, but lacking the strength to do anything about it.

"Relax babe, I'll deal with you in a few minutes."

I'd pulled back the bolt on my M4, checking that the last shell was floating in the carrier. Time to see how good a job I did cleanin' this thing. I extended the stock and put it to my shoulder; I swear that raging bitch perked up at me pointing the thing at her.

"G'nite."

BANG!

"Jeezus!" I swore as she slumped into the bars, her blood crusted arms stuck in them. I never even pulled the damn trigger. Bill was standing to my right with that damn casual expression, one of his pistols smoking from the barrel. Louis and Zoey had sprung up like a couple frightened rabbits too, both of them nearly falling over each other as they sat up together.

"Wake up time people," Bill said before looking at me.

"Already awake old man, just polishing my boom stick."

Louis and Zoey got a chuckle outta that one, but not Bill. God damn his silent, serious act was startin' to grate on my nerves. He picked up Eris, who groaned and squeezed him, which made his eyes perk up. Every time she made a noise everyone else got hopeful that she'd snap outta whatever the hell she was under. And damn it was annoying. I had nothin' against Eris, I wanted her to wake up too, but this constant false hope was dragging down the group mojo. And ya can't fight if you're depressed.

We cleared outta the safe room, cutting through a back alley of sorts which led to the loading bay of a small convenience store. Everything was ransacked except for some canned goods that _I _wouldn't eat even if I was starvin' to death. We cut through the demolished front section of the store to the streets. They were crawling with those damn vamp-... zombies. Me and Louis and Zoey took out the small pockets as we scoped the town. The sky was dark though it was day time. Lots of storm clouds overhead. Most of the town was walled off with tall concrete dividers or perimeter fences. We headed down a sloping street to a small bridge. To the left was a bar with an up-stairs pool hall, and to the right was a large two-story brick building, fenced off with a small courtyard.

And sitting in that courtyard was a God damn generator.

"I hate generators."

"Don't we all?" Louis asked.

"Who says we have to start it anyway?" Zoey added.

Bill groaned, "We do. See what I see?"

None of us saw it, so Bill led us over to the bridge. The bridge itself had its metal guard raised, even though it was lowered. The other side of the town was in sad shape, but that wasn't what he was looking at.

Floating in the water aside the bridge was a sailboat named "All 4 One."

"Hey Cap'n Bill, _there's _your sail boat."

"Francis, notice what's wrong?" Bill looked at me again with that tired expression.

"No. The damn thing's floatin'. Sails aren't ripped. Ain't that enough?"

"The bridge..." Zoey groaned. "The sailboat is stuck on the wrong side of the bridge. You can tell because the boat is moving against the bridge, trying to go with the current. The only way out to sea..."

"Is to raise that bridge." Louis finished. "I do _not _have a good feeling about this."

"Well shit Louis, now that's more like it!" I laughed. White-collar wasn't amused though. No one was, and I didn't blame 'em, because we all knew what would happen.

"C'mon, lets get ready." Bill said, looking for a spot to place Eris. Bill knelt down by the edge of the bridge, carefully leaning her against the metal guard. She stirred a little, and I swear I heard her whimper when the old man touched her face. Hell I don't even know why I was lookin' this time, except I guess I was hopin' she woke up too. Eris was a helluva fighter.

"Ready?" I asked.

"Hit it," Bill said.

I started the generator, thankfully it wasn't a pull cord style like the one's we'd seen before, but the damn thing was just as stubborn to turn over. Took three friggin tries before it finally did. The thing roared to life, and I swear zombies that were ten miles away _and _asleep came running. We kept the mob away with no trouble. Some of the special infected tried getting the drop on us from the top of the building that housed the hydraulic engines, but it was nothin' Zoey couldn't handle. As for me, I kept a body pile stacking up with my M4. Things were goin' pretty well.

Then a Tank showed up.

"Christ not again!" Bill swore. The Tank was a good distance down the road though, ripping up a section of concrete and hurling it at us. It's throw fell short by a few feet, and that pause was enough for all of us to fill him with more lead than a pencil factory. The big bastard collapsed before he could get within two yards of us.

"That wasn't so bad," Louis said, wiping sweat from his shaved head. The last straggling commoners were brought down, and the town was quiet again. Seemed like we were getting a break from the fight... for now.

"Yeah, but why is this bridge still down?" I asked. The generator was running, but there wasn't any noise coming from the hydraulic engines in the building next to it.

Zoey disappeared into one of the open doors for a few moments. "I see three engines, and only one has power," she said, emerging from the building. "There must be two more generators around here."

"Alright people lets find 'em while we have a reprieve." Bill said, gathering Eris onto his back. I suggested we look long and hard in the bar/pool hall across from the first generator. 'Course that idea was shot down by "Captain Bill." Past that bar down a sloping road we found another generator between a large construction dumpster and some scaffolding, along with an ammo pile. Before I could fire it up, the old man suggested we look for the third generator in case we weren't as lucky with a pause in the zombie hordes. The third generator was on the second floor of a warehouse across from the hydraulic engine building, and oddly enough it had an ammo pile as well. Both generators were about the same distance from the bridge.

"I'm thinking we should start them both at once."

"And split up? Francis are you pig-headed, or just stupid?" I swear if it weren't for Bill's mood, I'd have made a smart remark and let his comment go, but he was ignoring my idea.

"Old man if we start one, do you know how hard it is gonna be to start the second one if we get a bigger horde, or _two _tanks?"

Bill was about to say something, but stopped. Louis and Zoey were nodding their heads. Nice to know they don't think of me as just a handsome devil who's good with a shotgun. Got brains in this package too.

"I agree with Francis," Louis said. "Things have quieted down now, but when two or all three of those hydraulic engines fire up, it'll be a lot more noisy. We may not get another chance like this..."

"Especially if you have to watch Eris," Zoey added. True that. The common infected ignored her, as did the special infected, but if for some reason she started cryin' again, she might attract some unwanted attention.

"I don't like the idea of us splitting up, but I guess if it's two pairs..." Bill sighed.

"We're not gonna _stay _split up. Soon as the generators are both running, we meet back at the bridge. Besides I saw some health packs back on that table with the ammo."

"Sounds like a plan," Louis said.

"Okay, I'll babysit gramps. Zoey and Louis, you two go start the other generator down the street from the bar." I chuckled when Bill glared at me. I know the old man was used to taking charge, but since this was my idea...

"Give us one minute, then start it up," Zoey said.

The two new lovebirds hurried out of the building, and I thought about the pairing of the teams. Wasn't just random on my part.

"Lucky bastard..."

"Say what? Speak up son," Bill said.

"Nothin'," I said, waiting by the generator. After about a minute, I fired it up. Bill and I hauled ass back to the bridge, cutting across a walkway on the second floor that connected the two buildings over the sidewalk. We descended the stairs and ended up in the courtyard with the first generator, which was running but sounded worse than an out-of-tune bike.

Zoey and Louis were racing up the street to meet us. We gathered near the bridge, Bill setting Eris down to prepare for the next wave. And again I swear I heard her whimper, that or Bill was getting a little too sappy with her the way he lingered over her.

The hordes of zombies rushed us from everywhere, and if one generator called a mob, two of them called a God damn riot. They poured out of the bar, the engine room, and some I swear were dropping from the tops of the buildings. It was a damn undead shower, with us right in the middle! Still we kicked ass, even when those irritating special infected tried to break us up. Zoey was a crack shot as always, taking down Smokers and Spitters with her rifle. A few Chargers tried to break us up too, but they can't turn for shit once they start runnin' at ya, so one step to the left or right and it was a laugh to watch them stagger around after slamming into the metal guard for the bridge. One actually grabbed a common infected by mistake and ran right off the bridge into the water. Shit I about pissed myself from laughing so hard...

Then two Tanks appeared from around one of the buildings, with another angry horde charging behind them.

"Well piss my shit, there's _two _of them!" Bill shouted as he reloaded his M16.

The sky rumbled, the sound of distant thunder was like a pin drop compared to the roar of those twin behemoths. That storm was almost on top of us. We needed to finish this quick.

"Barbeque tonight!" I shouted, throwing my Molotov at them. The cocktail exploded into a wall of fire, dozens of commoners screaming as they ran through the flames before collapsing on the ground.

"Hey Francis," Louis said. "What's worse than two Tanks?"

"Hell if I know..." and then I realized where "white collar" was goin' with that question.

"Two Tanks on fire!" Zoey shouted.

Man had I ever screwed that one up. The twin Tanks were a lot closer than the first one that rushed us. Sure they were lit, but they were gonna close the distance that much faster now that they were on fire. At least one of us was gonna get his ass beat.

And when one of them charged right at me, I knew I was first.

"Concentrate all your fire on the left one!" Bill shouted. We lit that bastard up, and the lead onslaught slowed him a little, but not before he roared and slugged me with a fist the size of a damn door. I was off my feet like the time I'd crashed my bike on the highway, then I went ass first into the concrete, tumbling over and over. Good thing I'm indestructible though. I wasn't down yet.

"Christ that hurt like hell," I got to my feet and sawone Tank coming for me. It was limping, and I pumped every shell in the clip into the big fucker. With the last shotgun blast the Tank groaned and collapsed in a bloody mess.

"Damn right, that's mine!" I shouted.

"Aaaaghh!" Bill screamed. The other Tank, still on fire and still _really pissed_, slugged Bill like a bouncer would a drunk punk at Mickey's bar. Louis and Zoey had split up and were flanking the freak, but it wasn't going to be enough. The Tank turned to Louis next, clipping him in the back as he tried to run. The poor guy slammed into a building, and I remember Zoey screaming in rage, followed by several shots from her rifle.

I got to my feet, fingers fumbling as I reloaded my M4. That Tank punch hurt, though I'd never admit it. I ran with a limp, closing the distance and blasting the second bastard in his fire-charred back. The freak finally fell to the ground in a smoky mess, and just in time. Zoey and Louis were panting, and Bill...

"Oh shit! Bill!" The old man was knocked down again, but he wasn't out. I made it to him first, pulling him up. "C'mon lazy, you can't lay down there all day." I tried to joke with him, but he looked like shit.

"That wasn't necessary, but... thanks." He said, coughing. Zoey was tending to Louis, who was trying to shrug off Zoey healing him, saying it wasn't that bad. I had to agree with him. Bill on the other hand...

"Hold still I'm gonna fix ya," I said to the old man, patching him up. He was about to thank me...

Then we heard crying.

I turned on my heels, barrel of my M4 swinging around, searching for another wandering witch but finding nothing. All eyes were on the bridge.

"Oh my God!" Zoey cried. "Eris!"

Eris was laying in front of the metal guard, but she was in a panic. She was crying and screaming, slashing at the air around her but her eyes were clenched shut.

"Eris!" Bill shouted, running over to her. Bill was forced to stop short as a claw sliced the air in front of him. The gray Siren was oblivious to him, screaming and slashing the air. Even with only one set of claws she was still very dangerous. None of us could get close enough to calm her.

"Sweetheart, it's okay! I'm here!" Bill said, trying to overpower her screaming. But Eris couldn't hear him.

"Bill, lets give her a chance to calm..." Louis started.

Then the sound of the hydraulics on the bridge hissed, and the metal guard lowered.

'Bout frickin time.

"C'mon lets go!" Zoey shouted. An override bridge control panel was actually above the bridge itself, with a small ladder allowing access to it. Higher up was a larger enclosed control station, but at the time we didn't see a way to get up there. We ran onto the bridge, Zoey and Louis clambering up the ladder.

"I'm hitting it!" Louis shouted, flipping the bridge.

"Wait! We still need to get Eris," Bill said. Don't know how the old vet was gonna manage that, though. Eris was still slashing at the air, swatting the flies inside her head. Trying to move her now would be too risky.

"Don't worry Bill we'll get her once we thin out the crowd!" Louis shouted. "Zombies and special infected have never attacked her directly anyway, and I doubt they'll start now." Tough to argue with that logic, but I don't think Bill was convinced the way he kept lookin' at her.

The hydraulic engines roared even louder as they slowly raised the bridge, and as sure as cops would flock a two-for-one doughnut sale, hordes of zombies were swarming us yet again.

"Big ass gun!" Louis cheered, running to the right side of the bridge. Stationed on one of the catwalks was a mounted .50 caliber machine gun. _That _would thin out the crowd.

But no sooner did he get there, a damn Spitter appeared, screeching from atop the pool hall. She shot one of those green goo balls just before Zoey cut her down with a shot to that elongated neck. The goo ball splashed at Louis' feet, and he slipped in the shit trying to get away. I remember his screaming as the goo burned his leg; even _I _felt that.

"Louis!" Zoey cried.

"My leg!" He shouted, pulling himself up by the mounted gun, leaning on it for support. Thankfully most of the green shit had slipped through the metal grate of the catwalk after a few seconds.

"Are you alright?" Zoey asked him as she helped him stand.

"Cut the romantic shit guys, I see _three _Tanks!" I shouted. Way off in the distance up the road, three of them were clambering over a concrete barrier.

"Bull-frickin horse shit," Bill groaned.

"No worries," Louis shouted, still very much in pain but trying to play it off. "They can't climb up-"

Then the bridge stammered and stalled, high enough that an ordinary person couldn't climb it, but it wouldn't stop a determined zombie... or three determined Tanks.

"Fuck me..."

"Damn it, the generator's out!" Zoey shouted. "We have to restart the generator!"

Yeah, but who? We all knew whoever jumped down wouldn't be able to just climb back up. The old man was still staring down below. Eris was still screaming and slashing at the air. Right then and there, I knew what was gonna happen next...

"Cover me!" Bill shouted. "I'll take care of it."

"How the hell are you gonna to get back up here?" I asked, though I knew the answer.

"I don't know, but Eris is still down there! I'm not leaving her behind!" Bill shouted. "Zoey, light those bastards up for me!"

"Bill!" Zoey screamed. "Noooo!"

And with that the war vet jumped into the fray.

Though he didn't say goodbye, I knew what was goin' through his head. He was gonna do it again, try to go out in a blaze of glory for us. But this time, with three Tanks, I knew he wasn't comin' back.

"You heard the old fool, let's cover him!" Zoey shouted. Several commoners were tryin' to climb the bridge, but nothin' I couldn't handle since they had to climb up. Bill on the other hand, was jumping right into the maw of death.

Zoey pitched a Molotov of her own, creating another wall of fire to separate the Tanks from Bill as he rounded the chain link fence. Louis kept the mounted gun focused on the first Tank that was makin' a bee-line for the bridge. Between him and Zoey, that first one never stood a chance. In seconds his lead-riddled corpse collapsed in a heap. The second Tank was headed for Bill, but Louis was on him.

"Oh yeah! Take this you big son of a-"

Click-click-click hiiissssssss.

"Shit! The gun's over heated! Shit, shit, shit!" Louis screamed, bringing his rifle to bear. "We gotta cover Bill!"

The generator roared to life, and the bridge shuddered as it began to rise again.

"Bill! Get back here! The bridge is..." Zoey shouted.

"Graawwwgghh!"

From out of the fire we saw a huge slab of concrete sail straight for the war vet's position. Bill turned on his heels fast, discharging his M16, but a second later the "road missile" connected with him, sending him flying into the open door by the generator, and out of our sights.

Louis roared in anger, firing on one of the Tanks that was closing in on Bill's position. He kept firing even when the Tank was out of his sights. Zoey cut down several zombies that nearly swarmed me.

And then I heard another blood curdling scream just below me.

"Eris?"

I didn't know what happened to Bill's girlfriend, until two massive fiery fists appeared in front of me, grabbing hold of the rising bridge as they hauled their muscle-bound owner into my sights. Then... well, I had a pretty good idea what'd happened to her.

And for some reason, _I was pissed._

"Gonna rip off your head and shit down your neck, you sonofabitch!"

Zoey and Louis turned their fire to the big fucker who'd pulled itself on to the bridge, trying to catch a ride. I let fly with about four point blank shots from my M4 before one of those burning fists smashed the ground where I'd stood. I raced up that ladder like my ass was on fire, and with that Tank on my heels, it damn near was. All of us crowded around the ladder as the Tank climbed it, unloading everything we had into its skull. The blazing bastard got to the last rung before I saw one of my shotgun shells splatter gray matter. The Tank fell like a rock, all that lead in its head gave it the last headache it would ever have.

The bridge continued to rise, the three of us scanning for any more commoners that had gotten lucky to jump on. Once the bridge was completely raised, all I could hear was my heart thudding in my head, and the sound of Bill's scream echoing in my mind. I didn't even want to think about how the old man met his end. While I'm not much for sentiment, I felt a moment of silence was the best thing.

Zoey and Louis felt otherwise.

"God damn it Bill..." Zoey whispered in a shaky voice.

"Bill..." Louis sighed. Surreal as it was, I thought Zoey and Louis would have handled his sacrifice a little better; he'd already tried to play the martyr when we fought Tyre.

Thinking about it, _I _couldn't believe he was gone either.

"Crazy old son of a bitch," I sighed. "We could've held off those Tanks. With Louis behind the gun."

"Eris was still down there," Louis sighed, leaning on Zoey for support. He'd rolled his pant leg up to ease the chaffing, and it was a gruesome sight. The green slime had soaked through his pants, doing little more than staining them, but his flesh was holy and eaten like he'd suffered a chemical burn. "He'd never leave her behi-."

"Eris..." Zoey whispered fearfully. None of us thought to see if she was still down there. The three of us peered over the edge of the bridge.

Eris was gone.

Seeing Zoey like this, looking around like a scared rabbit, felt awful. "That last Tank..." I said. "The one that almost got us. I heard Eris scream, and then..."

"No..." Zoey cried. "No no no no noooo!" She threw herself into Louis, and I give "white collar" credit for not flinching when he caught her. With that leg, it must've hurt like all hell. Louis looked at me, tryin' to get me to come over and comfort Zoey too, but it would only make things awkward. I shook my head and turned away; there'd be time to comfort her later.

The crack of thunder echoed over our heads; the storm had finally caught up with us. No way we were gonna sail outta here now. I looked above us to that bridge control room, spotting several sets of ladders that we could climb to get to it.

"C'mon guys... storm's here, and I think I see a way up to that bridge control room." I said, feeling a droplet on my cheek. A rain drop, I'm sure.

Just a rain drop...

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A/N: Don't forget if you liked the chapter to review it. And if you have requests for character pairings, let me know. :-)


	19. The Port: Reloaded

_**Legal Disclaimer: The characters Bill, Zoey, Louis, Francis, Coach, Rochelle, Ellis, and Nick belong to Valve, as well as the Hunter, Smoker, Spitter, Jockey, Boomer, Charger, Witch, and Tank. The generic zombie apocalypse theme of Left 4 Dead belongs to Valve as well.**_

_**Xmodius, the awesome (and humble) author owns: Eris, Siren concept character, all other named characters that don't belong to Valve, and the coolness that is this sub plot (and the sub plot itself). ;-)**_

_Mature Content Warning: This story contains extreme violence and sexual themes, so if you're under 18 you need to lie about your age to FF. Don't lie to me, damn teenagers! It'll be like high school all over again, and I don't need that kind of mental trauma!_

Author's Notes: Shorter chapter than usual, blah, blah, blah, not the last chapter though it may seem like it, blah, blah, blah, please review or my soul will wither like a geriatrics' penis beneath a loose bath robe. Now that I've burned you all with that delightful mental image, enjoy the next chapter!

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Chapter 18 - The Port: Reloaded

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"Francis. Francis wake up."

"Wha? Mmph. I swear she said she was 18 your honor..." The biker slurred.

"Okaaay... I don't even want to know where _that_ came from, " Zoey said, rolling her eyes. "C'mon Francis, the storm is over. We need to meet up the other survivors."

"Rrrgh. Can't _they_ wait a little longer? Five... more minutes..." Francis asked in a sleepy stupor.

"No, and neither can we," Louis said, groaning a little as he leaned on the table. Standing was a bit of a chore still. "So let's go."

Francis grumbled and stood up, unceremoniously scratching his ass while Zoey helped Louis walk. The three survivors made their way down to the lower catwalk, which was about three feet higher than the top of a set of concrete steps that ran from the roof, down to the back of the building to an alleyway. Louis took a seat to ease the pain from his leg, Zoey and Francis flanking him on either side with their arms folded. The dark man couldn't tell if it was just a protective stance or if his friends were simply chilly. The storm had passed, but a strong wind came in intermittent gusts, scattering the remaining storm clouds. The three survivors waited, eyes wandering to the roof of the hydraulic engine building which was just level with them. And in the middle of the roof sat a cargo elevator, just waiting for passengers.

"I hear someone," Francis said, leaning forward on the metal hand rails. Zoey leaned forward too, spying four figures running up the concrete stairs. The first was a petite biracial girl in her early 20's wearing a pink Depeche Mode t-shirt. She was followed by a farmer-tanned "son of the soil" about the same age with a ball cap, yellow t-shirt, and overalls tied around his waist. Behind him was a greasy-haired, shifty looking con-man in his mid to late 30's, wearing a shit-water stained white suit, his face twisted as though he'd only just noticed that he smelled like raw sewage. Bringing up the rear was a rather burly man in his early 40's who looked like a football coach, his skin a few shades darker than Louis'. He wore a polo shirt that was purple around the chest and stomach but white around the shoulders and upper arms.

"You made it!" Louis said cheerfully. "Now you just need to fill up the generator so we can lower the bridge. We can even cover you from up here."

"Hey, I didn't see _you _from the other side," the girl said, smiling a little at Louis.

"Yeah I stayed here. I'm okay." The dark man said, though the young mulatto girl's concerned scowl showed she didn't believe him. " I just got banged up, that's all."

"Take these," the girl said, tossing Louis a familiar white bottle.

"Thanks," the injured dark man eagerly popped the bottle open and swallowed the painkillers, grateful for any short reprieve. "It wasn't easy getting up here... we lost a man." The other two survivors flanking him looked away for a second, quiet and melancholy.

"Then are you sure you want to lower the bridge?" She asked.

"Yeah... we'll help you." Louis said, feeling the mood from his teammates.

"Do you wanna come along with us?" She asked. Zoey couldn't be sure, but the other girl's question sounded like _more_ than a question. Then again, the college girl was _more_ than a little biased too.

"Sorry, I really am. You seem nice, but... we're good on our own. Now fill up that generator, and let's get you on your way." Louis said, politely but dismissively.

"Okay..." she said quietly, looking more than a little disappointed. "But if you change your mind..."

"Okay." Louis said, knowing full well these people would likely be the last uninfected humans they'd meet for the rest of their lives.

"Whoa people," said the burly man in the purple shirt. "Ah think we should at least know tha names of tha nice folks stickin' out dey necks ta help us get to N'awlins."

The man in the ruined white suit groaned. "Coach, does it really matter?"

"Yeah it does Nick," Coach retorted.

"Hell that's two names ah'ready," said the young man in the ball cap with a thick southern drawl. "Mah name's Ellis." He tipped his ball cap in a friendly gesture to the college girl up on the bridge.

"My name's Rochelle," The biracial girl said, more so to Louis than the rest of the group.

"Nice to meet all of you. My name's Louis. This is Francis, " the injured man gestured over his left shoulder. The biker nodded but didn't say anything.

"Strong silent type eh?" Rochelle said coyly, trying to get the tattooed man to smile.

"It sure beats hearing him talk," Louis said, laughing a little. Francis eyed the newcomers but kept quiet; not in the mood for banter.

"And this is Zoey," Louis turned over his shoulder to look at the college girl. She too was silent, but Louis thought nothing of it. All of them were still getting over the loss of their leader and their gray-skinned comrade. No doubt that was why they were both quiet.

"Uh... is she alright?" Rochelle asked.

"Yeah, she look like she done seen a ghost," Ellis said, eying her up.

Louis craned his neck from his sitting position to get a better look. Zoey's beautiful blue eyes were wide as saucers on her decidedly paled face, her pink hoodie rising and falling with her rapid breathing.

"Zoey...are you...?" Louis started.

"I... I'm sorry... did you say your name was Ellis?" She asked in a hoarse voice, looking at the country boy.

"Yes ma'am, 'n may ah say it's a pleasure ta meet you, Zoey." He said with a big smile.

"And... your name's Coach?" She asked the big dark man next.

"Well dats what folks call me, so ah guess y'all can do tha same," Coach replied.

"You know these people or somethin' Zoey?" Francis asked, breaking the silence. The biker was staring at her intently; the college girl looked genuinely afraid.

She stared vacantly for a couple seconds before composing herself. "No... thought I did, but..." She shook her head as though clearing a fog.

"That generator isn't going to gas itself up," Nick said impatiently. "We're on a time table here."

Coach scowled and was about to chastise Nick for his lack of manners, but Louis cut him off.

"Go on then. Get that generator gassed up. We'll cover you from the bridge."

Rochelle nodded, eyes lingering on Louis before she followed her three comrades to the elevator. As the elevator descended, Zoey and Francis helped their injured comrade to his feet.

"You sure you're gonna be okay?" Francis asked.

"Do I have a choice?" Louis asked dryly as he leaned on him.

Francis smirked. "You're becoming more of a surly bastard every day, white-collar. Good change."

"Zoey what's wrong?" Louis said turning to the college girl. "You really _did_ look like you'd seen a ghost."

"I... it's nothing important," she said, though her eyes betrayed her.

"_My nightmare... No. It's a coincidence... it has to be."_

"Bullshit," Francis said, unintentionally stealing the words from Zoey's conflicted conscience as they rounded the catwalk that crossed over the bridge.

"Nothing that can't wait until after we get this bridge lowered, I promise." Zoey said.

"_Please God no... don't let Ellis say he's found Bill and Eris... or what's left of them."_

Louis hitched a breath of discomfort as he leaned into the big gun, securing his grip on the handles. The burning pain in his leg had lessened thanks to those pain pills, but he still couldn't put weight on it. "Okay Francis. You and Zoey are gonna cover them from the second floor of that pool hall, right?"

"Yup," the biker said. He and Zoey made their way to the balcony across a wooden plank they'd found on the catwalk, laying it out like a makeshift bridge. "From what I can tell it's boarded off from the rest of the building so no worries about a horde." Francis said, searching the boarded off area for supplies.

"Just keep your eyes open for S.I.," Louis grunted, eyes narrowing as he looked down the barrel of his big ass gun. "I'll be the Tank gunner."

"No prob-... holy shit!" The biker reappeared with a fully loaded M60 with a laser sight. "Whoever held up here left the good toys behind! Gonna bring the pain to those bastards!"

"You can say that again," Zoey said. "There's several pipes and bile jars in here, as well as some pills, adrenaline shots, and first aid."

"Looks like we're all set for a serious fight then," Louis said. "And just in time. Here they come."

The cargo elevator lowered to the courtyard, all four survivors scrambling to the inside of the hydraulic engine building to look for gas. The cries of the horde echoed over the town. Peculiar, considering there was no sudden loud noises to call their attention. It was times like these Louis wondered if the damn zombies were just drawn to _any _level of noise created by the uninfected, be it as loud as a generator or as quiet as a mouse fart.

Zoey stared at the door to the left of the generator with a heavy heart. A bloodstained smear started at the entryway, disappearing into the building.

"_Bill... Eris..."_

When Ellis burst out of that door, Zoey nearly shot him.

"No gas in there!" He shouted to no one in particular before turning to his right. Zoey had lowered her sights, but not before Ellis saw her cross hairs on him. "Glad to know you're watchin' mah back, Zoey." He smiled and tipped the bill of his cap before running off to find gas elsewhere.

"I got this one!" Rochelle shouted, jumping down from the second floor crossing between the two buildings with a large yellow gas can in her hands.

"Why doesn't anything ever have enough gas in it?" Nick asked as he rounded a corner with a gas can in his hands. Coach was right behind him, pouring his lot into the generator as soon as the con man was done.

"Oh shit! Watch out!" Coach yelled. The first group of common zombies had appeared from around a corner, all of them rushing towards the generator. The four survivors braced themselves for the fight...

The next thing they heard was very loud, rapid explosives, and the common zombies fell to pieces in a bloody mess. Rochelle looked up at the bridge to find the handsome, dark-skinned survivor behind the smoking barrel of his "big ass gun."

"Woo hoo! Go Louis!" Rochelle cheered.

"Hey I helped too ya know!" Francis shouted, a wispy trail of smoke coming from the barrel of his M60.

"Sorry big boy. Didn't mean to bruise your ego," Rochelle laughed. Francis spaced out for a second at her remark, thinking briefly of the only other person who ever referred to him as "big boy."

Shaking the thought away, Francis grabbed a random item from the stockpile and tossed it down.

"Here! Yer gonna need this!"

"Thanks Francis!" Rochelle said, catching the adrenaline shot. She turned suddenly at the sound of a cackling squeal, like a cross between a sick cat and nails on a chalkboard.

"Spitter!" Louis shouted. The long-necked infected screeched and fired her payload at the survivors around the generator.

"Goo! Incoming!" Rochelle yelled, backpedaling away from the expanding puddle of glowing green acid. She let fly with a three round burst from her SCAR. The shots caught the Spitter right in her gut, spilling her toxic gastrointestinal fluids all over as she collapsed in a heap.

"Nice shot Ro!" Coach said. The four survivors took off around the side of the bar, heading down the slanted road past an abandoned freight truck. "C'mon kids we still need thirteen mo!"

Zoey watched the survivors run past the bar, down the street, then rounding a building at the end of the street to their left. The second floor balcony Zoey and Francis were stationed on was a wrap-around style, which gave both survivors a vantage over the two main streets of the town. Of course, anything behind a building was out of their sights.

"Got it!" Zoey heard Ellis shout. The country boy was the first to reappear from behind the building, racing up the street.

"Damn it Ellis wait up!" Rochelle yelled after him. The three survivors rounded the building next, more than a few paces behind the eager young man.

God had a sense of humor. Zoey heard insane laughter from atop the building, but before she could spot it, one of those damn Jockeys landed on Ellis with a giddy cackle, riding his back and latching on with those huge hands.

"Shit! This thing humpin' me?" He screamed, staggering back down the street. The jockey covered his "horse's" eyes with one huge hand, the other hand wrapped around Ellis' neck.

"Skittish one!" Coach shouted, bringing his weapon to bear.

One shot rang out and the Jockey fell off with a gurgling cackle, a single bullet hole right through its neck. Ellis looked up to see Zoey with a smug smile as she looked through her scope.

"Nice shot Zoey!" Ellis grinned, picking up the gas can he'd dropped, his eyes locked on the auburn-haired beauty. "Zoey, Zoey, Zoey..." he trailed off, running to the generator. Coach shot Zoey a smirk of approval at her accuracy, while Nick nodded but seemed almost disappointed that the country boy's "neck rape" was over so quickly.

The four survivors gathered only one or two cans at a time in this manner, especially when they had to search outside the visible area of the bridge. With no cover fire, they couldn't take chances. This point was driven home when Nick decided to quickly search another building on his own. He'd found a single gas tank by an old generator, and next to it... one VERY angry Tank.

"Gaaahh! Gangway!" The con man shouted, an angry roar punctuating his cry of fear. He barreled out of the building, passing a parked bus before leaping over the downed concrete barrier into the main road. He tripped and fell to his knees but was up like a shot, huffing it down the slanted street as a huge chunk of concrete shattered in the spot where he'd been moments earlier. Nick felt errant bits of asphalt catch him in the back as the ground shook beneath his feet; the slab had just barely missed him.

"Lead it back to tha bridge!" Coach shouted as they ran into the street after it.

"You! Shoot the Tank!" Nick screamed at Louis. The Tank pursued Nick to the generator and was chasing him around it like two kids running around the kitchen table. The systems analyst kept his sights on the big bastard, his heart racing as he remembered what happened the last time. Time slowed down as his adrenaline surged, every shot focused on the angry behemoth. The con man about slipped as he ran around again, falling to his knees behind the generator. His clumsiness saved him as the Tank's punch only caught air.

But when he sprung up, back up into the gunner's sights, Louis noticed a change. The con man had traded his white suit for an old style army uniform, and a blood-stained beret topped his head. He was significantly older too, his facial hair filled in with a short white beard, eyes a steel gray with a haggard yet determined expression.

"_Bill... no..."_

"Bill!" Louis screamed as time caught up. The Tank lay still, its body still shaking from the steady stream of hot lead the dark man pumped into it.

"Hey!" Nick screamed from the generator, causing Louis to snap out of his trance. "I appreciate your enthusiasm, but save it for another Tank. And the name's Nick by the way, not Bill."

Louis was gasping for breath, staring at glowing orange barrel of his mounted gun. He'd nearly overheated it... again. He hadn't even realized the Tank was dead until Nick shouted at him.

"Way to Kite like a Man!" Francis shouted to the Nick, who looked like he could barely stand on his jelly legs. The white-suited survivor glared at him before running off to join his comrades. Francis felt his laughter die in his throat when he looked at Louis. "White collar" looked like he'd seen a ghost.

"Louis, you alright?" Francis asked.

"Yeah... I... I'm fine."

"Okay brother. Just makin' sure."

The dark man shook the memory of Bill from his mind. A guilty complex, even though it wasn't completely his fault the Tank hadn't gone down. The big gun had overheated and his M16 simply didn't do enough damage. But as he watched Nick run off to gather more gas, he swore it wouldn't happen a second time.

Much of the battle went smoothly, the four New Orleans bound survivors stayed together as they hurried back and forth with the precious petroleum, filling the generator as quickly as they could while the other three survivors covered them.

"One more for tha Jenny," Ellis said, pouring his gas. The other three survivors standing around him.

"Still need five moah!" Coach shouted.

"They're up that road, four of 'em in that small storage area by the abandoned bus." Nick huffed as he caught his breath. "When I was running from that Tank I caught a glimpse of two on an upper balcony."

"That's the building behind that one concrete barrier, right? The one with part of the wall knocked down?" Rochelle asked.

"Yup, so we gotta stay together! Can't count on a crack-shot from our luvly Zoey," Ellis said, taking a second to wipe the sweat from his brow before returning his cap to his head. The college girl had her back to the group as she scanned the buildings with her sniper rifle.

"_Our _lovely Zoey?" Rochelle asked, a sly smile on her face as she followed Ellis' stare. She had to admit, for a white chick, the petite survivor had a shapely backside.

"Hell yeah. Ah luv a gal who kin shoot!" Ellis said, completely missing the undertone of the biracial girl.

"Can't fault the kid," Nick said, shooting a shifty glance to the college girl on the balcony. Her back was to them as she took aim at another Hunter creeping around the second floor patio by their bar. The sound of her rifle followed by a yelp, said it all. "Killer shot, and a sweet ass."

Zoey suddenly spun around and fired at Nick. The con-man didn't even get a chance to yelp as the bullet whizzed right by his ear, catching a commoner in the head who was just about to strangle him. All the survivors turned towards her in surprise.

"If you're all done admiring my ass," she said dryly, "you could get back to watching your own."

Coach busted out a hearty laugh, he being the only one who wasn't gawking at the college girl's butt. "C'mon kids, les git dat gas!"

The team of four rushed up the sloping street, first ducking into the abandoned convenience store that joined the street with the alley where the last safe room was. They appeared with one more can of gas, the burly dark man in his purple and white shirt leading the run. A Hunter shrieked as he left his perch from atop a building, diving headfirst towards the survivors.

"Crazy legs!" Coach shouted, body-checking the hooded infected. The big man's momentum was more than enough to throw the Hunter off balance, and before the special infected could even swipe at the burly survivor, the other three put him down with a wall of lead.

"Four more to go!" Nick shouted as they hurried back up the slanted road. The last four cans were within a small two story building, out of sight of the bridge.

"C'mon lets just grab all the cans!" Nick shouted as they passed a parked bus. "It's the last four!"

"And what are we gonna do if we get ambushed?" Rochelle asked.

A very loud, and all too familiar roar answered her question.

"Oh shit! TANK!" Coach shouted. The ambush had come early, in the form of one massive zombie. The Tank roared and pounded its chest, barreling towards the group.

"Kill it mayhn kill it!" Ellis shouted. The Tank swung at him first, but the country boy was fast, ducking into the door way to avoid the punch. The huge muscled zombie pounded its chest, directing its rage towards the other three survivors who were tightly packed together.

"Shoot dat big mutha!" Coach roared. The survivors opened up, but in such a confined space they were easy targets.

"Light it up!" Rochelle yelled, going for a Molotov on her belt. The Tank snorted and charged Rochelle before she had a chance, slugging her so hard she went sailing right towards the collapsed barrier where they'd entered. She screamed as she flew right out into the street, flipping end over end.

"I'm gonna beat dat Tank's azz!" Coach roared, firing up a chainsaw he'd found, the gasoline engine's loud noise grabbing the Tank's attention. The behemoth roared at the sound of the chainsaw firing up, turning towards Coach.

"Who wants a Tank Burgah?" Coach shouted. He raised the logging-tool-turned-war-weapon over his head and squeezed the trigger, taunting the Tank with the mechanical roar of the gasoline engine.

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"Okay, okay... that one hurt," Rochelle gasped as she shakily stood up. She shook her head, trying to gather her bearings. Where was she? That Tank's punch sent her sailing nearly across the damn town. She looked around, spotting an abandoned convenience store to her left, a small parking area to her right.

And dead ahead, a simple chain link fence that blocked the highway out of town.

"That's the way out of here," she said, turning around. Through the downed barrier she saw her friends fighting it out with the Tank. Coach had just barely dodge a massive punch, which sent a parked bus near him rocking on its wheels. He swiped the Tank across the shoulder with his chainsaw, a fresh spray of blood coating his face. Bullet tracers were peppering the big bugger, Nick and Ellis preferring a less up close approach for bringing the Tank down. The young aspiring reporter's eyes narrowed; she owed that big son of a bitch a few rounds in the head for slapping her. How dare he hit a lady!

But before her plans for revenge could be carried out, she heard a familiar hacking sound right behind her.

"Smoker!" She cried, spinning around and aiming towards the roof of the convenience store. The lanky infected was tricky, instead appearing from out of an alleyway, and he was fast to snag the distracted survivor with his serpentine tongue.

"Help! Smoker has meeee- aaggh," Rochelle pulled at the noose around her neck as the coughing infected dragged her towards him. He clawed and tore at her as the green smoke began to obscure them both. Rochelle wasn't sure if her friends had heard her, but even if they did they were still dealing with that Tank. Only a lucky shot could save her. Rochelle choked, spots forming in front of her eyes. The world was growing dark. With her air supply constricted, she would black out in moments.

So close to a rescue, and this is how it would end. It just wasn't-

The sound of a gunshot, followed by the instant slacking of the Smoker's tongue, and the color returned to her cheeks. The Smoker died in a huge blast of green smog, choking the young survivor as she yanked the now slack tongue from around her neck, trying to breathe but gagging on the rancid air. Someone had shot the special infected, but who? Her friends were occupied with the Tank, though perhaps one of them was able to get a lucky shot. She couldn't see Zoey from here either, but then again Zoey had a powerful sniper rifle with a scope. Rochelle's eyes watered, hell she could barely see _anything_ in this damn Smoker cloud. She had to get back to her friends; out here she was a sitting duck.

Suddenly a pair of glowing eyes appeared within the smog, less than a few feet away, and staring right at her! She screamed and swung the butt of her SCAR, doing little more than scattering the green smog around. Rochelle backpedaled several paces, trying to get a better look at the enemy, but there was nothing. Perhaps she'd scared it off? She shook her head and took off in a dash to her friends.

"Ha haaaa! YEAH!" Ellis screamed.

Rochelle jumped over the fallen concrete barrier to the outcome of the fight. Ellis stood triumphantly on the Tank's back, his ax buried into the back of its head. Coach was heaving and huffing, his chainsaw covered in blood and entrails. He must have disemboweled the big creature. Nick wasn't toe-to-toe like the other two, though his weapon was smoking at the barrel and his white suit was spattered with errant blood.

"Told ya... ah wuz gonna... beat dat Tank's azz," Coach wheezed.

"The way you went at it, I thought it was made of chocolate," Nick laughed weakly, nursing a bite wound on his arm.

"Hey now! Dun forgit mah ax in da back of 'is head!" Ellis said. "Did y'all see me do that jump from the balcony? Like a daymn lumberjack ninja! Reminds me of tha time me and Keith decided we wuz gonna be lumberjacks for a summer to make some extra muney. But we had ta buy all our own gear, and Keith was wunderin why we need ta bother with all that safety equipment cuz it's just cuttin down a tree, right? Ah mean if its fallin' towards ya, ya just step ahside. So anyways we git these plaid shirts and-"

"We ain't got time fo dis Ellis," Coach said.

"Okay," he replied, though a little depressed.

All three survivors turned at the sound of Rochelle coughing.

"Ro! You a'ight?" Coach asked.

"Yeah I'm okay." She gasped. That Smoker's smog still burned in her lungs. "A little... banged up... and I nearly got... choked to death, but I'm okay thanks to you guys... or one of you." Rochelle said as she looked at her friends. "So... which one of you gentlemen was my guardian angel?"

"Huh?" Coach asked.

"Which one of you took down that Smoker that was 'hugging' me to death?" She asked.

"Not me," Nick said, picking up one of the gas cans. One who didn't know the con-man's personality would think that he could care less that she'd almost died. "C'mon lets get the other cans and get the hell outta here!"

Rochelle shot a look at Coach who'd scooped up the second gas can that was thrown down from the balcony. "Sorry Ro, wuddn't me. C'mon, you and Ellis git dat gas."

Rochelle and Ellis hurried into the small building, finding the last two gas cans tucked in a corner by a stack of boxes. Rochelle shot him a questioning look, which he answered with a pat on her shoulder before grabbing the other gas can. "If ah'd known you wuz in trouble Ro, ah'd have come a runnin' right away. Sorry ta say but ah ain't yer knight in shinin' armor."

"You sure don't dress like one, Overalls," she said, referring to Ellis by a nickname Nick had given him. A derogatory one by the con man, but to her it was more a cute pet name. She gave the country boy a quick peck on his pouting lips. "But you have the heart of one."

Ellis' face turned beet red and looked away, trying to hide his embarrassment. Rochelle couldn't help but smirk when he lowered the gas can, as though trying to hide something else.

"C'mon people let's go!" Coach shouted.

The four survivors hurried down the sloped street to the generator. Louis, Zoey, and Francis gunned down any straggling commoners that ran for the gas-toting group. The four of them quickly took turns to pour their last lot into the generator. Rochelle went first, and the moment she was done she turned thankful eyes to the vigilant college girl on the balcony.

"Thanks for being an eagle-eye." the girl in pink said to the other girl in pink. When learning that none of her friends had saved her, that only left the college girl with her H&K rifle as the one responsible for picking that Smoker off from such a distance.

"Uh... you're welcome?" Zoey asked, giving her a funny look.

Rochelle cocked an eyebrow, a bit perplexed herself. Being humble was one thing, but...

"Fire it up!" Nick said not unpleasantly.

Ellis started the generator, his back to the three survivors on the balcony. Zoey's eyes glazed over for a moment, Ellis' yellow shirt having suddenly turned into an olive drab jacket with two claw marks in the back.

"_Bill..."_

"It's started! Let's get the hell outta here!" Bill shouted as he turned to the group, his steel eyes looking over everyone before focusing on Zoey. "Thank you for watching my back!"

Zoey saw the blurred outline of their lost comrade through watery eyes, standing before the generator with one hand by his forehead in salute.

"Anytime..." Zoey whispered, blinking away her tears. Ellis stood there, a mixture of concern and confusion on his face as he looked up at her, but only for a moment. He tipped his ball cap and took off with his friends.

The bridge lowered into place, the metal guard hissing and lowering with a loud clang.

"Hurry! Run ta Jimmy Gibbs Junior!" Ellis shouted gleefully. The group sprinted down the bridge as another horde of common infected began to chase them. Louis had joined Zoey and Francis on the second floor balcony of the bar, adding his gunfire to that of his two comrades as they gunned down the remaining commoners. A couple escaped their hail of bullets, but were promptly run down as the blue and white stock car tore down the road.

"You know, I have a good feeling we're gonna be seeing those guys again," Louis said over the roaring echo of the engine.

"_Where? At the mall?" _Zoey thought to herself with bitterness. Whatever was left of the common horde had run after the race car, leaving the bridge and its three survivors in the dust. The sailboat, the "All 4 One" floated on the other side of the bridge, waiting for its three sailors. And once they got on, the three of them were not likely going to see another uninfected soul for the rest of their lives.

No time like the present to get _that _portion of their lives started.

"C'mon guys, lets set sail." Zoey sighed.

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The stock car raced up the sloping road, and Nick swore they would slam right into the concrete barriers that protected the town. Ellis laughed, cutting the car in a sliding right turn. The tires squealed on the asphalt, barely holding traction as it skidded around the corner.

"Time ta crash tha gate! YEEEEEHAAAAWWW!" Ellis roared. The stock car raced for the flimsy perimeter gate, smashing through it like a Charger running downhill. The car skidded a little at the impact as the gate didn't separate evenly, and Ellis had to cut the wheel to keep from skidding out of control. The car slid to a halt with the screech of the tires.

"Jeezus Christ Ellis! I'm all for getting there fast, but I'd like to survive the fucking trip!" Nick shouted from the back seat behind Coach.

"Aww take it easy Nick! Weez alive ain't we?" Ellis cheered, straightening the stock car out.

"N'awlins here we come!" Coach shouted, the engine roaring as Ellis floored it.

Rochelle squeezed Ellis' shoulder, expecting to see his eyes in the rear view mirror. But the mirror had gone askew when they'd all piled into the car in a hurry. Instead, Rochelle saw another pair of eyes staring at her as the car pulled away. Glowing amber like two cooling embers, the humanoid figure waving "goodbye," standing in the middle of the road behind them as they raced out of Rayford.

"Rochelle? Babe you alright?" Nick asked.

She answered with silence, frantically turning around and kneeling on the seat to stare straight out the back window.

But the street was empty.

"Yeah... yeah I'm fine." Rochelle said, the image of those golden eyes burned into her mind. "Just thought I saw something..."

"What'd ya see?" Ellis asked as he adjusted the rear view mirror, getting an unexpected but no less pleasant view of the reporter's rump. Rochelle said nothing though, and Ellis eyed her for a couple seconds in the rear view before returning his attention to the highway. Nick and Coach didn't press either. The three men were once again focused on the open road, leaving the biracial girl to ponder on what had happened.

"A guardian angel." She whispered, the roar of the engine drowning her out as they raced to the horizon.

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A/N: No the story isn't over yet. Seriously it' isn't! Is the story marked "Complete"? No? Then it ain't ovah! Please review!


	20. 280 Days Later

_**Legal Disclaimer: The following characters are copyright of Valve: Bill, Zoey, Louis, Francis, Witch, Hunter, Smoker, Boomer, Tank, Jockey, Spitter. The following characters are copyright of Tripwire: Horzine, Kevin Clamely (a.k.a. The Patriarch), Sergeant Powers and the very brief description of his character which can be found here:**_

kf-wiki . Com / wiki / Squad_members # Sergeant_Powers

_**All other characters belong to Xmodius, including but not limited to: Dr. Allan, Alexis, Sgt. Xavier Malory, Heather Lenhart, Dr. Tyre, S-Tank concept character, Siren concept character, and any other characters that neither Valve nor Tripwire can take direct credit for (including the more detailed past that is Sgt. Powers' life).**_

_**Further Disclaimer: This story is copyright of xmodius and is NOT permitted to be copied or reproduced in any way.**_

_Mature Content Warning: This story contains violence and sexual themes. Duh! I mean, really folks. I swear if ANYONE still needs to read these flippin' warnings, you're slower than the post office at Christmas. Granted I know the rest of you read them just to see what kind of rant I'll go on, and I can't say I blame you. If I was reading a story by a guy as nutty as me, I'd always read the disclaimer and wonder how the hell the guy writes so well while wrapped in a straight jacket._

Author's Notes: This chapter will... you know what? Forget it. No notes here. Maybe some notes at the end when most of you are saying, "What the hell? What was THAT all about?" Not that I owe anyone an explanation, but by the time you're done you'll probably scratch your head or want your time back. ;-P

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Chapter 19 - 280 Days Later

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The loud rhythmic sound of an Apache transport helicopter echoed over the open ocean, carrying a special ops group, code named "R.E.S.C.U.E." (Reconnaissance, Evacuate & Secure, Coalition of Unified Emissaries) to yet another isolated island in the hopes of finding survivors. This wasn't their first mission, but it _was_ the first time they were going out to the remote set of islands in the Florida Keys.

The squad sat along benches that lined the interior of the large flying war machine, their arms on their knees as they leaned forward, bored while awaiting a debriefing from the commanding officer. Most of the soldiers hailed from the United States, but a small portion were from England. Despite their unique code name, nearly every member of the squad looked alike, all dressed in the standard gray camouflage style uniform of the U.S. Military. Those who hailed from the U.K. wore a similar version.

However, one particular soldier from the latter country stood out among the rest. Only at a first glance would you notice the odd man out, the camouflage uniform he wore was of the older sort, a black and green jungle pattern that was quite different from the gray patterns of the modern U.S. variety. He was also a bit more "beefy" than the rest of the squad. He stood nearly a full head higher than the tallest squad member, though sitting down he only appeared a few inches taller. His height was balanced out by his massive frame: Broad shoulders, a sizable chest, and a pair of "guns" that would put a body builder to shame. His legs wouldn't be easy to overlook either, the thick tree trunks that they were. His entire body was hardened from rigorous training and combat, all of this evident even through the not uncomfortable fit of his full body uniform. His stature was the reason he was seated at the end of the bench alone, with enough extra space for three soldiers. His sheer size demanded it, not so much for breathing room, but because no one else dared sit so close to such an intimidating man.

And that still wouldn't be the first things one would notice.

The more apparent differences would stick out like a sore thumb, like the full gas mask that completely obscured his face and hair, unlike the other soldiers who's faces were uncovered. Or that he carried a katana on his back and two .50 caliber Desert Eagles in his twin holsters instead of the standard Bullpup SA80 rifle and Browning 9mm side arm of the British army. Granted some of the other soldiers carried their weapon of choice, that being one of their conditions for them to be "drafted" into this new unit, though none of them carried a melee style weapon in place of a mid range, rapid fire rifle.

But perhaps the most out-of-place object on this trained killer was the freakish necklace he wore. It was completely composed of numerous dried fingers that wrapped completely around the neck in a loose fit, the front hanging just below his breast bone. The fingers were of varying colors and shapes, most only vaguely human like. The center finger was a bit larger than the rest, a thick, burned, husk that would have looked quite phallic if not for the crusted fingernail impression at the end of it.

Yes, nearly everything about this soldier screamed, "I've been to hell and back, and if you so much as breathe in my direction, I'll drag you screaming to Satan's doorstep." Which was probably why no one bothered to make small talk.

Of course, there was always at least one "new guy" who had to be the first to talk to the intimidating soldier...

"Who's the limey?" A young soldier asked, nudging his buddy next to him.

"Mind who ya callin' 'limey' ya wankah," a U.K. soldier barked, a few people down on the bench.

"Dunno. Never seen him before," whispered the guy next to young recruit, trying to end the conversation. "But then we're new to this unit. Only person I know here is you."

The first soldier squinted, trying to read the name stitched on the breast of the old style green and black camouflage BDU's. The rank on his meaty arm indicated he was a sergeant, yet he was sitting with the rest of the grunts. The lack of an American flag was another give away he was "drafted" to their team.

"Hey big fellah! What's your name?" The first soldier asked. His buddy shot him an incredulous look.

"He's a sergeant," the second soldier said in a hushed hiss. "No matter what army he's with, you don't talk to a superior like that!" The second soldier gave an apologetic glance at the large man in his gas mask, but he wasn't even looking at them.

The masked soldier said nothing; did not even acknowledge the two U.S. soldiers talking about him. He remained in his upright, rigid posture while trying to contain his rage, a mood he was well acquainted with as of late. Finding the remains of your wife and kids jammed in the door is a good recipe for a bad mood. He ate little, slept even less, and what he lacked in conversation skills he compensated with a blood lust that had his fellow survivors sleeping with one eye open. Oh, and he collected the freaks' fingers, as was evident by his neck wear. The man he was would never consider wearing human fingers like some sick cannibal tribe like necklace.

Yes, the man that was Sergeant Jack Powers died in a fit of blind rage when he found what was left of his family, and their killer.

"Okay... Sgt. Big Fellah. What's your name so I can address you properly?" The first soldier asked, more than a hint of dry humor in his question.

Powers' eyes were closed behind the two black, convex voids of his gas mask that otherwise hid his pain from the rest of the world. He could care less about these bloody wanker Yankees and their damn "infection." As far as he was concerned, these blokes didn't know the meaning of true horror. After all, none of them had seen the nightmarish spawn of Horzine.

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"_Christ could this bloody day git any worse?" Sgt. Powers bellowed in his cockney British accent as he raced down another side street in his mini cooper, a car far too small for his frame, and barely a fit for his meager salary. The Horzine bio-tech research company had finally done it. They specialized in cloning technology and weapons of warfare, but no one knew they were trying to combine the two to make the ultimate army. Their practices always skirted the lines of legality and had long since plunged off the deep end of morality, but they'd finally done it. They'd opened the mouth of hell, and Britain was teetering on the precipice of destruction's maw. Horzine had created monsters, literally. An outbreak occurred at the main research facility hidden in the countryside, and "specimens" were swarming over London and the surrounding area. The freaks were of various shapes and sizes, a bloody marriage of cloned human forms merged with destructive hardware. The "specimens" were overrunning London, a trail of blood and fire in their wake, but hopefully they hadn't reached his block yet. _

_He had to hurry. His wife and kids were priority number one. The UKSF could do without him for a day or two once his wife and kids were relocated with relatives in the countryside. Once that was done, he would return to his post. Though he'd probably get brought up on desertion charges, he knew his superior officers would over look it because he was one of the best._

_He pulled up to his flat in the less trashy side of West London, almost forgetting to throw the car into "Park" as he threw the door open and sprinted to the front steps. The front door to his flat was ripped from the hinges and splattered in a crimson liquid._

_Sgt. Powers beheld a horrifying sight as he entered his home. Arms and legs of varying sizes, bloody and almost completely unrecognizable were jammed into the front door. The metallic smell of blood and the odor of rotting meat filled his nostrils, threatening to bring up his breakfast. Choking down the desire to retch, he pulled his pistol from his holster. As he passed through the foyer he saw blood splattered on the walls, glass broken, furniture tipped over,and a large bloody smear leading up the stairs to the second floor._

_Aside from the thudding of his heart in his ears, he could hear a faint gurgling sound coming from upstairs. _

_The sergeant raced up the steps two at a time, pistol in hand as his adrenaline surged. He expected to find some deranged lunatic or a desperate burglar when he burst through the door of the master bedroom, but what he found instead would forever haunt his memory, denying him sleep when he wanted it, but fueling his combat rage when he needed it. _

_Standing on the other side of his bloodied marital bed was a lanky-looking creature that was only vaguely humanoid. It stood upright on two legs and had two arms, though the left arm was actually just a short stump that stopped above the elbow, while the right arm had what looked like two hands growing back to back out of the end of the wrist, and tied to that mangled arm was a four foot, flat-ended, machete-like blade with a sharp claw jutting off the side at the end. The creature had no skin either, showing only the muscles that would be otherwise hidden, a bright red color though they didn't bleed. Its head was the only part that seemed to have a sort of epidermis, and it was missing the lower jaw._

_And the creature hadn't noticed the stunned soldier standing there, it was too busy hacking its bloody blade into the torso of the soldier's wife and two kids. It gurgled and grumbled, involved in desecrating its kills as blood and entrails flew out in ropes every time it raised its blade to strike again. A string of guts flew off its blade onto the stunned soldier's face._

_Sgt. Powers' eye twitched as the last string of his sanity snapped. The man that was once whole and complete had shattered into fragments of insanity and rage. Powers had lost a part of himself. A gaping hole festered within his soul, giving birth to a horrifying darkness that threatened to consume him. The text book definition of an inner demon if there ever was one. And as this demon took control of him, he found himself talking to the creature that was practically bathing in his family's blood._

"_You've been out in th' sun too long, govnah!" He said, cocking his untwitching eye. "Yer red as 'n apple!"_

_The creature stopped its act of desecration and looked up, beady eyes narrowing at the new prey. It gurgled and raised its bloodied blade, charging the burly man with surprising speed. The sergeant barely had a chance to duck out the door before the massive blade swiped the air twice where he once stood. The freak almost took his head off, but had sent itself off balance with its zeal._

_Powers was a true soldier, one with years of hard training. So it was on instinct the way he pushed aside the gruesome sight that was once his family to take his enemy off guard. The large man threw himself at the off-kilter assassin, knocking it straight to the floor. The creature struggled mindlessly, but the sergeant's weight was too much to simply throw off as he straddled his victim. The thing didn't even show fear or pain when the sergeant grabbed its bladed arm and broke it at the elbow._

"_Jeezus, mind that fucking great blade! Yer gonna 'urt someone if y'ain't careful!" He said, ripping the blade free of the coarse rope that tied it to the freak's single arm. With both hands and a laugh of mirthful insanity, the demon in control of Sergeant Powers thrust the blade down width-wise like a makeshift guillotine, chopping the creature's head right off and embedding the blade into the floor. The headless creature continued to struggle and twitch like a chicken with its head cut off, and Powers laughed insanely as he yanked the blade free and proceeded to eviscerate the freak beneath him, plunging his gloved hands into the freak's chest after slicing it from stem to stern. He ripped and tore at the muscle and sinew, tossing pieces of it aside with a glee the way the creature surely had when it decimated his wife and children. _

_Powers never even noticed the long cut that ran diagonally up one cheek, crossing over the bridge of his nose before tapering off near the top of his forehead, until a trickle of blood ran from the wound into his eye, the stinging pain cutting off his insane fit. He blinked in sudden surprise before realizing what it was; the creature's swipe was closer than he thought. He blinked again, looking over his bloodied hands; hands that were no longer his own. He held the creature's crooked, torn finger in one and its heart in the other. His demon's blood lust was not sated just yet. It whispered the unthinkable from the darkness in Powers' mind, and the other side of the soldier's sanity screamed in protest when he finally acquiesced to the voice of madness._

_Sergeant Powers casually pocketed the finger, then bit into the heart like a squishy, bleeding apple, blood dribbling down his chin. He chewed twice, then spat out the chunk on the creature's lifeless face._

"_Too sweet for my taste," he mumbled, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. And for a long while all he did was sit there atop his kill, staring into the face of his family's end, memorizing everything about it so it would be forever burned into his retinas. Part of his fragmented mind reminded him that time was not on his side, urging him to his small supply locker in the bedroom. He'd kept a gas mask in there for emergencies, which he promptly fitted over his face, securing and tightening the straps over his head._

_Next he took a katana off the bedroom wall, one of his many combat weapons he'd acquired for his collection. This one was not a simple reproduction, but the genuine article. After fitting the sheath over his shoulder, he retrieved two Israeli Desert Eagles that were safely tucked behind the top drawers of his wife's dresser. The two .50 caliber hand guns had enough kick to send an ordinary man rocking on his heels from firing just one with both hands, but Powers massive frame barely rocked when he drew them akimbo. He was quite proud of the fact that he could dual-wield them, always impressing his friends at the shooting range. Sgt. Powers loved his weapons, and every time he squeezed himself into his tiny car, he reminded himself that the tight ride was worth it to own not one, but two hand cannons._

_His armament completed, he pocketed all the ammo he could carry and exited the bedroom, heading down the stairs. Outside, the sounds of terror and mayhem echoed over the city, growing louder as he exited the flat. He watched a young woman running for her life as some naked humanoid creature, devoid of any body hair and lacking genitalia, shambled after her. Two well placed shots from his twin hand cannons send the freak flat on its back. He casually approached the twitching form, drawing his katana from the sheath and sliced its head from its shoulders. This time the demon within him didn't have to coax him at all. He set to work slicing a finger off one hand, and even headless the thing still tried to claw at the muscled sergeant. It struggled for a few seconds before a punctuating death rattle shook its body one last time before it lay still. _

_Powers pocketed his prize and looked at his reflection in the blade, an alien-looking face staring back with its gas mask. Everywhere he could hear the sounds of gunfire and cries of terror, dotted with the sickening sound of bone and flesh being broken and ripped._

_Sergeant Jack Powers, the man who was once happily married, a proud father, and generally content with his life, was now an angry, childless, widower who was being drawn into the dark void of insanity. And as the blood continued to drip from his new face wound behind his gas mask, the only thing keeping him from completely losing himself was the new mission in his darkened soul._

_Butcher every last one of Horzine's freaks!_

_But keep the fingers..._

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"Sergeant Powers?" The young U.S. soldier asked, squinting a bit more to read the last name on the big Brit's uniform.

"You're poking the bear," the second soldier said, a scolding undertone in his voice.

That was his name, but the man once associated with it seemed like a distant memory to the angry warrior he had become. In the end he accomplished his goal and completed his neck-wear. He and a team of the last remaining U.K. elite had survived the Horzine Incident as it was referred to. He'd assisted in wiping out the Horzine cloning labs, and had come face to face with the mad scientist who'd started it all: Kevin Clamely. The insane doctor had become one of his own creations, a horrifying creature that took on all the attributes of the monsters he'd helped create. Since his transformation, he referred to himself as The Patriarch, and it was no mystery as to why. He stood nearly seven feet tall with a body mutated from all sorts of muscle enhancing drugs. He could run faster than any man alive, and cleave your head off with a vicious swing from his right clawed hand.

And then there was the hardware. The doctor had a mounted weapons platform on his left arm, complete with a chain gun and rocket launcher. A large tentacle object jutted from his chest, allowing him to punch the nearest unlucky soul down the block, or run them straight through if he felt like it. And on top of all that, the bastard could cloak himself temporarily.

Thanks to years of research and ghastly experimentation, Kevin Clamely had become far more and far less than human. He was the best, and the worst, Horzine, Inc. had to offer.

Powers remembered the fight that ended his finger collection. The perfect way to celebrate Christmas Eve, when he and his squad had chased the Patriarch to a snowy base in the mountain regions. Dusk was falling as fast as the snow, and it was critical they finish this now before conditions made a rescue impossible. The squad set to work demolishing the cloning equipment, as well as slaughtering every last specimen they encountered before facing the mad doctor himself...

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"_You've murdered my children!" Kevin Clamely roared in a monstrous voice that was deep and angry. Everywhere the chief Horzine scientist could see the bloodied remains of his specimens, his "children", and before him were six soldiers who'd butchered them. _

_The metallic sound of Powers' katana echoed as he drew it from the sheath, the blade glinting in the moonlight. This was it, the man responsible for the death of thousands, including his family. The sergeant's inner demon took control, and the burly man threw his chest out and bellowed, "You'll pay for what you've done!" _

_The Patriarch answered the challenge, throwing his head back to roar at the dusk sky. And with that, the battle began._

_The fight was fierce, and went downhill entirely too fast. In the first few seconds, Sgt. Powers saw several squad mates get cut down by The Patrarich's chain gun, a couple stragglers then blown to pieces by his rocket launcher. The few that survived the blast were dealt with hand-to-hand, impaled by his large chest tentacle or had their necks broken by a vicious swipe. Powers had nearly fallen himself when he rushed the insane doctor with his katana, a desperate attempt to take the mad man's head off. His swing hit The Patriarch's shoulder, but the deep gash barely fazed him. A second later, a punch from that chest tentacle sent Powers flying, then slamming flat on his back in the snow. An ordinary man would've lost his wind, gasping for breath and incapacitated, but the demon within granted him an unholy strength that was compounded by his desire for vengeance._

_In the end, Powers realized he was the last man alive. Only a minute in, and it was almost over for his squad. He'd landed next a fallen soldier who was known simply as "Pyro" due to his liking for torching the specimens with his flame thrower. The sergeant wasn't much for incendiary warfare, but between the throbbing in his chest and the thundering laughter of his enemy, he didn't have time to consider other options._

"_Stay there. I'll make this quick." The Patriarch laughed as he aimed his chain gun, ready to fill the soldier's body with hot lead. However a wall of flame erupted around him causing him to roar in pain instead. He charged the wounded sergeant, rushing through the torrent of fire still engulfing him. He thrust his chest tentacle at Powers, ready to skewer him._

_But the burly sergeant dodged at the last second as he cut the flamethrower off, drawing his katana and in a fluid motion, slicing the tentacle right off at the chest. The Patriarch roared and attempted to retreat, but suddenly found the end of the flamethrower embedded in the hole in his chest._

"_Barbecue tonight!" Powers said, before he pulled the trigger._

_The Patriarch lit up from the inside like a Happy Christmas tree. He screamed as fire erupted around his body, turning him into the worlds largest living candle. Powers felt the laughter rising, and before he knew it he was cackling the same insane laugh when he tore apart the creature that butchered his family. _

_The Patriarch was quartered from the flames, limbs no more than blackened husks as they fell from him. With a final cry, his torso fell into a bloody, flaming mess, staining the snow red._

_Powers stared down at the roasting corpse from behind his gas mask for a moment, expecting to feel some closure, expecting the darkness over his heart to finally lift, but it did not. Kevin Clamely's death was a great victory, but it wouldn't bring his wife and kids back. Still bitter, still angry, and still a corrupted man, he began to walk away._

"_You're forgetting something," the demon whispered, as though scolding him._

_Powers turned back, drawing his combat knife and sawing at the charred middle finger on The Patriarch's one hand. It was a bit bigger than the rest of what he'd collected, but then it was his greatest "prize" yet._

"_Sgt. Powers, this is rescue Echo, do you copy?"_

_The focused survivor ignored the radio, they could wait. With a final rip of sinew, the finger tore free and he set to work adding it to the necklace he'd been forming._

"_Please respond! Sgt. Powers do you copy? Rescue chopper is running low on fuel."_

_With a sigh, he answered his radio, relaying the gruesome fate of his comrades and the death of the Patriarch as casually as discussing the weather. Minutes later the rescue chopper descended, the whirling blades scattering the fallen snow around he and his kill, hovering just low enough so a rope ladder could be dropped. And as Sgt. Powers climbed in and was lifted away, he finally felt the closure he wanted: Though they were gone, his family was avenged, and he could finally rest. The darkness in his heart was still there, but the demon that resided there was silent._

"_Sergeant, you've been reassigned." The chopper pilot said. "We'll be dropping you off at the nearest airport to catch a flight to America. There's been an outbreak that's ravaged most of the east coast and is working west. You'll be debriefed further when you arrive."_

_The chopper pilot didn't hear the growl from beneath the gas mask. Probably a good thing too._

_Rest? Sergeant Powers?_

_Only if he stopped breathing._

_._

* * *

_._

Sergeant Powers exhaled as he thought about how he went from out of the frying pan and into the fire. He had been "offered up" to join the newly formed American task force called R.E.S.C.U.E., a group of blokes who'd barely survived the zombie hordes and "special infected" created by TriHex. A bit different from Horzine's creations, but still just as dangerous. With nearly all of his unit wiped out and the threat of this "mutated rabies virus" potentially crossing the ocean to his home country, Powers was considered the perfect candidate to further compliment R.E.S.C.U.E. Thanks to the group's efforts, the U.S. Military had recovered several overrun installations and were reorganizing, slowly beginning to regain ground against the infected. Last he'd heard, a cure was under development, though it was still a ways off from being perfected.

So here he sat on this helicopter, going to yet another remote location to find survivors. How many missions had he been on now? Five? Ten? Twenty? He didn't keep track. Thinking about his current mission, this was the first time they were going _strictly _to look for survivors as opposed to securing another military installation. Supposedly a group of _immune_ survivors had sailed to one of the islands in the Florida Keys, survivors that were of great importance to his current "boss."

He scoffed a little behind his mask. He was surprised he even had a boss at this stage in the game. At the time he was drafted, Powers didn't give two shits what "Uncle Sam" was going through. _His _war was over. Powers had given his superior officer at the UKSF the British two fingered "V" gesture with the back of his hand towards him, similar to the American middle finger. In either case the message was the same: Fuck off! He was more than happy to be dishonorably discharged after the hell he'd been through; he could use a long vacation.

But fate wouldn't let him rest so easily. As he walked away, a name was uttered, barely loud enough to be heard. A name that was a ghost to him, one he hadn't heard in a long time. That of his sister: Amanda Powers.

Jack and Amanda had been quite close as kids, him being the protective older brother though only one year her senior. But like most siblings, the two grew apart as they matured into adulthood. He enlisted in the Army at 18, and she'd gone to college in America. Since graduation she'd been working overseas, only coming back to visit family during the more important events like holidays.

Then one Christmas she came back with a man on her arm. The foolish girl went and fell in love with some American toss pot, a soldier no less. Being military earned the sod a little respect in Powers' eyes, but not much. To Jack, this was the Yankee who'd ensured his sister would never return to the U.K. He was so bitter he didn't even attend the wedding, only hearing about it from his parents the day Amanda Powers became Amanda Malory.

Christ, an American with a French last name... he could vomit.

She would call him from time to time, typically late at night with the five hour time difference. E-mails were more frequent than phone calls, but regardless how she contacted her brother, nearly every conversation would drift from their family to that of her beloved Xavier. Powers hardly knew the guy and he wanted to slug him. Probably just sibling jealousy, but no less easy to ignore. And yet every time he heard the giddy delight in his sister's voice, he was able to choke it down. Amanda was happy, and despite his prejudice towards the American, her happiness was all that mattered to him. Still, it was evident to his sister as to how little her brother cared for his new "in-law." Calls and messages occurred less and less frequently, until one day about a year into her marriage, he stopped hearing from her altogether. He tried to contact her, but that sonofabitch husband of hers never responded. For all he knew, the two of them had decided to write off her entire family for their life in the States.

But finally he knew why she'd dropped off the face of the earth, because she _had._ According to classified information, his sister was dead, one of thousands of victims of this mutated rabies virus. Her husband had followed in the line of duty, but the details were top secret. All of this "classified information" came from some American quack by the name of Dr. Allan, who'd apparently known Jack's brother in law quite well, so much in fact that he went so far to say that Xavier died a true hero and was one of the men who'd turned the tide against the war on the mutated rabies virus. And that was exactly why they needed _him _to pick up the fight where his brother-in-law had left off.

All this information had wet the broken soldier's appetite for answers to a lot of questions already gnawing at his gut. Apparently his "offering up" was more of a "trade" to satisfy the appetite of his own information-hungry government, who believed Trihex and Horzine were up to something skirting the lines of legality. The two companies were once a single unity, formed many years ago but were ultimately split up on anti-trust regulations. Since then, the two companies had grown into their own fields of research, and while they were technically rivals under the law, the U.K. believed they were more involved with each other than was allowed.

And so Powers agreed, on two conditions: First, that he be completely included on all classified information about the U.S. outbreak, including the individuals and corporations responsible. A heavy condition, but a deal-breaker for him. And the second, that he used his own hardware. A much lighter condition compared to the former. So with those two conditions honored, he was sent off to a secret military installation in Pennsylvania to be fully debriefed. Additional documentation about the MR-1 creations, or Special Infected, made for interesting reading material. They were a force to be reckoned with, but nothing he couldn't handle. Compared to Horzine's creations, nothing could surprise him. Not a zombie invasion, nor a new breed of killing machines. Not even all of Dr. Allan's top secret information would frazzle his nerves of steel.

Looking back on it, he couldn't have been more wrong.

.

* * *

.

_Sergeant Powers arrived at the secret military installation known as Echo Rho Tau with his superior officer, Lieutenant Jenkins, a man who only came by his rank because he went to college, not earned through hard combat the way Powers had gained his own. The two Brits were led to a medical building where a gorgeous and rather curvaceous R.N. with long black curls and a sensuous smile greeted them._

"_Lieutenant Jenkins, Sergeant Powers. Pleased to meet you. I'm R.N. Stevens, but you can call me Alexis," said the pleasant ebony woman who stood tall by most standards. Powers only nodded, face still hidden behind his gas mask. His superior officer, however, sported a cheeky grin when Alexis smiled politely at him. "Please follow me," she said._

_She lead the two U.K. soldiers to an elevator that required more than a finger to operate as she swiped her card key through the reader. The elevator descended slowly, its three occupants standing stiffly as though they were waiting for a bus. Never one for awkward silences, Alexis spoke up._

"_Why don't you take that mask off? Or would my perfume drive you into a frenzy?" Alexis asked the burly soldier with a coy smile._

_Powers said nothing, his arms behind his back in a classic "parade rest" fashion._

"_Your perfume's 'eavenly. The way a woman should smell." Jenkins commented._

_Alexis continued, unabated. "Come on, don't I get to see the face behind that mask? Or maybe you have some hideous scar that you don't want anyone to see?" She asked, stepping into his personal space. "Or maybe you're just shy?" She said playfully._

"_Sgt. Powers doesn't say much, and trust me from a superior officer, having a soldier who _doesn't_ talk much is a blessing," the accompanying Lieutenant said, trying not to be too obvious with his flirting._

_The ebony nurse pouted at the big man, completely ignoring the Lieutenant's remarks at conversation. "The strong silent type huh?" She asked, gently touching his upper arm, causing him to look right at her. She may as well have placed her hand on a marble statue, the man was solid as a rock and just as cold. Alexis shivered at the way he stared right through her. Even with the gas mask over his face, the man was intimidating. _

_Yet despite his harsh exterior and frigid indifference, Alexis could sense the human being inside. He put up a tough front to hide his humanity. The R.N.'s heart ached; it reminded her of someone she was more than fond of. _

"_You remind me of Francis, though he wasn't very quiet..." she said, a melancholy look in her eyes, complimenting the sad smile on her face._

"_Who?" Asked the lieutenant._

"_That's classified information, and it's not my place to talk about him further." Alexis said dismissively, quickly turning away as a tear formed in her eye. The elevator came to a stop, the doors opening slowly to reveal a small underground lab. A few beakers and some expensive looking equipment, but nothing more. Directly ahead of the trio was another door._

"_Dr. Allan will tell you more about him and the others, and why we need your help." The R.N. said as she led the way to Dr. Allan's office, the sway of her ass nearly causing the lieutenant to trip over his own tongue. There was a time when the silent sergeant could appreciate a well shaped bum like hers, but he no longer saw the delicate nuances of beauty. Behind the tinted lenses of his gas mask he only saw two things: Friend or Foe._

_Alexis opened the door to a small office, the desk completely covered in papers, including the computer that sat on it. And from behind this mass of papers stood a man who looked like he was long overdue on a good night's sleep._

"_Dr. Allan, this is Sergeant Powers and Lieutenant Jenkins." Alexis said, introducing the two before standing at the doctor's side._

"_Good to meet you both," Dr. Allan said, shaking Jenkins' hand and pausing when Powers only acknowledged the gesture with an empty stare from behind his mask. Dr. Allan shook his head as though trying to get his thoughts back on track. "To get right to the point," he said. "Sergeant Powers will be joining and perhaps _leading _the special ops group: R.E.S.C.U.E." Lieutenant Jenkins eyebrows rose at that, but Powers remained stoic. "Given the information from the UKSF about Horzine and his dossier, Sergeant Powers is the perfect man for the job. I'm on orders from the President to supply him with whatever he requires to get the job done."_

"_Before you draft the bloke and toss 'im in with a buncha pikeys you yanks call soldiers, there's our end of the deal to settle first." Lieutenant Jenkins said._

"_Of course." Dr. Allan replied, pulling out a sealed metal briefcase with a complicated lock. "This is all the information about MR-1 and its genetic offspring, as well as all information we have about the recorded outbreak. Unfortunately Trihex's chief researcher Dr. Tyre died in a tragic... 'accident', and most of his work died with him. He was quite reclusive."_

_Lieutenant Jenkins eyed the doctor before securing the brief case. "But this is only 'alf the arrangement."_

"_How so? Everything about MR-1 is in there." Dr. Allan said, confused._

"_Sergeant Powers requires answers to some personal questions," the Lieutenant said. "Both he and myself 'ave already been debriefed on the 'offspring' of MR-1, part of the arrangement between our Prime Minister and your President was that all parties involved are debriefed on the enemy, so there's no need to fill us in on that." Jenkins said causally._

_Dr. Allan shrugged and turned to the quiet statue of a man. "Ask away."_

_And for the first time since his battle with The Patriarch, Sergeant Powers spoke._

"_What 'appened to my sister?" Said a muffled, but no less intimidating, voice from behind the gas mask._

"_Your late brother in law killed her; at least that's what he told me at the time. She was infected and beyond hope for a cure, so he put her out of her misery."_

_Powers' hand twitched, his head cocking to the side as a growl rose in his throat, his inner demon feeding on his outrage. His family's death had given birth to a dark side that pulled at his sanity and threatened his humanity. It was always with him, ready to control his actions when the rage filled his heart. But it was only during combat that Sgt. Powers submitted to it, letting go when he shed the blood of all Horzine's creations. It was a delicate balance, a tight rope to walk, but he managed to keep it contained. His control concealed his darkness the way his mask covered his face, but every now and then he would slip. His growl did not go unnoticed as Dr. Allan took a step back._

_No. Channel the anger; save it for the infected. His sister was gone, and nothing would bring her back. The demon within reluctantly relinquished his humanity._

"_And what 'appened to my late brother in law?" Powers asked, containing himself._

"_Sergeant Malory died a true hero in the line of duty." Dr. Allan said. Alexis looked away for a moment, trying to keep her tears at bay._

"_Tell me." Powers said, his fists clenching beneath his gloves as he tried to hold on to his composure. "Everything."_

_And for the better part of an hour, Dr. Allan retold the written events locked away in the secured briefcase, including some extra undisclosed information: The arrival of the five survivors arrived at Echo Rho Tau, and the turn of events that lead to the death of his brother in law, and the real fate of the insane Dr. Tyre. While Dr. Allan didn't know exactly what happened during the battle, Alexis had no problem recounting everything Francis told her during their last radio contact. These survivors had ultimately saved the world. True heroes to the end. Dr. Allan had dossier photos of all of them, including a picture of the deceased form of Dr. Tyre that he showed to both soldiers._

_Lieutenant Jenkins stared slack-jawed, and even Sergeant Powers' eyes widened behind his mask as he stared at the photo. A soldier was standing next to the carcass to put its size into perspective. The soldier barely stood taller than the height of the huge creature's shoulder, flat on its back. _

_The burly sergeant felt a rather uncomfortable lump in his throat, causing him to swallow reflexively. His battle with the Patriarch was small potatoes compared to the fight these blokes had with this S-Tank creation, and his no-good, jackass of a brother in law had brought Tyre down and saved the world, along with five other survivors. He flipped through their photos, candid shots, apparently. Powers only briefly looked at each one, until he'd gone to the bottom of the pile, when he promptly felt his breath hitch. _

_The last photo was that of a beautiful woman who appeared to be singing to someone outside the camera's lens. Cascading from her head was a mane of shimmering platinum hair, its length causing it to spill halfway down her back, some of it covering her partially bared shoulders and her sizable chest. Her amber eyes appeared to glow with a lively fire, completely opposite the eerie glow the other infected seemed to possess. Her smile was the epitome of happiness, one the sergeant could relate to his late wife's beautiful smile when they'd first met. Her high cheekbones, pert nose, and soft full lips, coupled with her jaw-dropping figure, could break the resolve of any man. Her gray skin was an exotic and unique enhancement to her beauty. He'd even overlooked the massive claws on her hands at first, only noticing them as his eyes roved down her body. In the white margin below the photo was a hand-written name:_

_Eris_

_For the first time since he'd last held his wife, Sergeant Powers felt his heart racing, not out of rage but admiration. He stared at the photo of this enchanting creature for longer than a few moments, until the sound of a throat clearing snapped him out of it. He looked up to see Dr. Allan staring at him almost impatiently._

"_So Tyre really didn't die in an accident." Powers said, finding his voice as he handed the photos to Jenkins. "He was yet another mad scientist obsessed with ruling the world with 'is 'children'?"_

_Dr. Allan nodded. "As I mentioned, most of his research was destroyed when he trashed the lab, but it was clear what his intentions truly were. That's why those five survivors are very important. Eris especially..._

"_A... Witch 'elped bring down Tyre?" Jenkins asked, finding his voice as he looked over the pictures. "Christ, I read the reports about them, saw some gruesome photos too. Those sick looking tarts are capable of a lot. Murderous, 'ateful bitches. An' awful on the eyes too." He stopped cold when he came upon Eris' photo, a hungry gleam in his eyes. "Corr! But this Witch's a hot dish isn't she? Blimey! Knockahs big as yer 'ead!"_

"_She's **not** a Witch," Alexis said harshly, more so at the way the lieutenant was ogling the picture with lustful eyes than anything else. "Her name is Eris, and although she looks similar to the MR-1 WTCH, I promise you she's NOTHING like anyone or anything you've ever encountered."_

_Lieutenant Jenkins actually felt a pang of fear when he saw the daggers Alexis glared at him. The ebony R.N. looked downright pissed at his casual remarks._

"_Alexis is right in saying that Eris is not a typical S.I.," Dr. Allan said, interjecting. "In fact, I don't think you could even call her infected at this point. MR-1 merged with and rewrote her DNA."_

_Lieutenant Jenkins stared at Dr. Allan. "You mean she's a new species? That's impossible!" But Dr. Allan silenced him with a cold stare. He didn't want to disclose too much about her just yet. If things panned out the way he was hoping, everyone on the planet would know her story eventually. _

"_That aside," Dr. Allan continued, "she's the catalyst for furthering our research to developing a vaccine for MR-1."_

"_I thought the U.S. already had a cure." Jenkins said._

"_A cure yes, though only 33% effective." Dr. Allan replied. "And we still need a vaccine to prevent the further spread of MR-1, and I believe Eris is key to that. Which leads me to R.E.S.C.U.E's first mission."_

_Powers groaned beneath his mask. "A bloody wild goose chase for one "friendly" infected person over the entire country? Bollocks! Yer off yer rockah!" From behind the massive sergeant, Jenkins nodded his head in agreement. It was barmy!_

_Dr. Allan leaned over his desk, palms flat on the worn wood as he glared at the two men. "I may seem crazy, but I assure you Sergeant, I'm very serious. Your mission will be to secure a number of overrun bases and establish them as safe havens for the uninfected. Moreover, you'll be looking for more uninfected. R.E.S.C.U.E's objective is just as the acronym sounds, to rescue survivors. And of course, you'll certainly be keeping a eye out for Bill, Zoey, Louis, Francis, and Eris._

"_You're sayin' they're still alive? Bloody 'ell..." Jenkins mumbled._

"_I'm damn near positive. They brought down the S-Tank, and I doubt there's anything that could amount to that battle. Even though we haven't heard from them since..." Dr. Allan sighed. The loss of radio contact always gnawed at his mind. He'd heard nothing from them since Alexis spoke with Francis, but there was always hope. Both he and Alexis were counting on the survivors' uncanny ability to beat the odds. It was the only way he could continue the research for a vaccine. "I took a Hippocratic oath to do whatever I could to help humanity, but I can't do it without them. Between their immune blood and Eris' genetic makeup, the fate of perhaps the entire United States depends on them. So if they're still alive, I need you to bring them back. Once that's done, I'll consider your services complete."_

"_And if they're pushin' up tha daisies?" Powers asked, his dry tone evident even filtered by his respirator._

"_Then you're going to be involved in the 'clean up' portion of this operation for many a year," Dr. Allan said flatly. "I've spoken with the President about all this, and he agrees that developing a vaccine is a top priority, along with securing overrun military bases as safe havens for the uninfected. We're going to hopefully kill two birds with one stone."_

_Powers said nothing, only waiting for the answer to the obvious question: Where to go first?_

"_Your first assignment is Rayford, Georgia."_

_._

* * *

_._

"Sergeant Powers!" A voice shouted before a hand landed on his shoulder. He was up in a flash, grabbing the stray hand on his shoulder and twisting the arm, bringing its owner down to the floor with a yelp of surprise. The two "new" soldiers gasped audibly, while three others were fast to draw their pistols.

"Blimey mate, ya wanna get tossed on yer bum for assaulting Captain Callahan?" Lieutenant Jenkins said, gently patting his shoulder. The man pinned to the floor was one of the American officers, no doubt coming to debrief them on the next mission, as if anything had changed from the last several times.

Powers let the captain go, who looked more afraid than angry at hm. He was quick to stand and straighten his uniform. The soldiers with weapons drawn cautiously replaced their pistols as the officer began to speak.

"The mission debriefing is as follows: The squad is to sweep the island for any infected and search for survivors. It goes without saying that you are not to split up under _any _circumstances," he said as he straightened out his uniform. Several soldiers mumbled quietly, the general consensus that this was nothing new. To try and go it alone was nothing short of suicidal.

"However, there's a change in leadership for this mission," Capt. Callahan said, pausing as the helicopter shifted, slowly descending. "Lieutenant Jenkins will _not _be leading this mission; he will remain on board. Sergeant Powers will be in charge."

Several soldiers turned to Lt. Jenkins, expecting a scowl or at least surprise, but the limey lieutenant showed neither. His casual demeanor revealed that he'd been expecting this, but it was still a surprise to the other soldiers as to why he wasn't upset about it. Lt. Jenkins smirked as Sgt. Powers stood to face the unit. He was a bit taller than the rest and his sheer size had a few of the soldiers looking sheepish, especially the "green" Yankee blokes.

"Powers doesn't say much, but when 'e does you can bet yer arse it's important, so listen up when 'e's talking!" Jenkins barked.

Capt. Callahan nodded as the huge helicopter finally touched down. "You are to carry out all orders that Sergeant Powers gives you. We will return once your sweep of the island is completed." The cargo bay door opened, revealing the sun-bleached sand of the beach. "Now move out!"

Sergeant Powers drew his katana and rushed out of the back of the helicopter, his squad right behind him with their weapons ready. Past experience was the infected would immediately swarm to any sort of commotion, so he fully expected to charge right into a mob ready to rush the helicopter.

But as he and his squad scanned the beach, weapons ready, only an ocean breeze greeted them. The helicopter's whine picked up as it lifted off, the loud whirling of the blades growing quiet as it gained altitude, fading out of sight in the mid-day sunlight.

"Looks like this island is deserted," one of the U.S. soldiers said, scanning the tree line that was a good fifty feet away from the beach.

"Shall we begin the sweep Sgt. Powers?" another asked.

The burly man was quiet, eyes tracing up and down the tree line that almost seemed endless. The sunlight glinted off his katana, the errant light reflected into his eyes. He blinked and brought his sword down. But as he did, the same glint sunlight off reflecting metal caught his eye again, only this time it was coming from the tree line.

"I see something!" A solider said from somewhere behind him, the sound of a rifle bolt being pulled back punctuating that remark. Several other soldiers raised their rifles too, having spotted a humanoid form emerging from the tree line, a raised sword in its hands. A katana, Powers noted, like his own. But the MR-1 zombies didn't know how to use weapons...

As it approached, its gait revealed it was _not _one of the infected. And as it drew closer still, its gender became _quite _apparent. A collective gasp echoed from his men, followed by quiet utterances and confused murmuring.

_She_, was a petite young woman in her early twenties, and she was almost completely naked, save for the remains of a very tattered pair of shorts that were probably full-length jeans at one point. Her smooth sun-kissed skin was a caramel color, slender, toned tummy glistening with a light coat of sweat from the mid-day heat. Her hair an untamed auburn flame that flickered and danced in the tropical breezes, the long, straight locks falling about her shoulders as the wind died down, partially covering the womanly charms on her chest. Her baby blue eyes sparkled like the clear waters of the ocean, but were narrowed with suspicion and hardened from combat. Her tanned face was peppered with darker freckles near her nose; pretty soft lips drawn into a frown. Her high cheek bones drew into a perfect symmetry with her face, further accentuating her neckline which had a necklace made of errant bones and flower petals draped around it. The necklace dipped low, leading wandering eyes to the handful-sized breasts just beneath it. Crowing those fruits of flesh were a pair of small brown nipples, perky, delectable, and no doubt darkened by the sun which gifted her such a beautiful tanned complexion. Her sword remained raised in a defensive manner as she approached them.

The survivor, who held the sword like an extension of her arm, was the perfect picture of a island warrior goddess: A toned body, darkened by the sun and tempered from combat. Eyes that could melt a man like butter, or freeze him where he stood. Hair a fiery mane that she tossed behind her shoulder with a flick of her head. She was a vivacious vixen who could lift you to heaven or send you to hell.

Sergeant Powers nodded in approval. This woman was hotter than a freshly fucked fox in a forest fire.

"I knew I heard a helicopter!" Said another voice from behind her. Powers blinked, he hadn't even noticed the other two survivors who were flanking this warrior princess on either side, like loyal bodyguards. To her left was a slender yet toned African American man, who looked darker than a midnight sky. He had a red tie wrapped around his otherwise bald forehead like a bandana. A pair of tattered boxers was all that covered him from the sunlight, and they looked like they could rip apart with a slight tug. His face was covered in unkempt facial hair.

"I hate soldiers." Said the gruff voice of the other male survivor. He wore a tattered leather vest and the remains of his own jeans. Numerous tattoos adorned his muscular arms, though they were fading from the constant sun exposure. He was a few shades darker than the girl in the lead, with a dirty mop of light brown hair. His face was covered with a grown out mustache and beard, though part of the hair was longer around his chin and lips. It was as though he'd kept a goatee when he was able to shave, and it was now growing longer than the rest.

All three of them looked like they'd been stranded on this island for a while, yet it didn't seem to dampen their spirits as they hurried towards the soldiers.

Powers waved a hand at his troops, signaling them to lower their weapons as the three island inhabitants drew closer. The caramel colored beauty walked right up to the leader, a man who not only made her two companions look tiny by comparison, but was very intimidating with his face completely obscured by the gas mask he wore.

"Nice necklace," she commented, eyes on the long blackened finger-like appendage hanging from the center.

The large soldier said nothing.

The island beauty eyed him carefully. "Interesting decorations. Is there a story behind them?" She said, reaching out to touch the large, blackened digit.

Powers raised his katana to define the boundary of his personal space and give the girl a scare, but the sudden "ting" of metal showed she wasn't the type who spooked easily. She'd already met his sword with her own, blocking his blade from touching her other hand. Her feet were apart in a defensive stance, yet she seemed relaxed. The sergeant couldn't help the smirk drawing over his lips, and he chuckled, actually chuckled, at the woman's lightning reflexes.

"I'll take that as a 'no'," she said, eyes still burning into him, sword unmoving.

"I don't know you well enough to get into that," the British soldier said, a cockney accent detectable behind his muffled voice. "Nice block by th' way."

"Thanks," she said flatly. "You always try to butter a girl up with your eloquence?"

"Only when my good looks don't reel them in first," Powers replied, a smile evident in his voice and rather foreign to him, given his overall demeanor over the last year or so. Something about this girl was refreshing... and familiar.

"So are you two gonna flirt all day or are we gonna get on with the introductions?" The tattooed, tanned survivor said irritably. The dark man looked a little perturbed too, but only nodded in agreement.

The soldier lowered his katana. "Sergeant Powers, part of the special operations group coded R.E.S.C.U.E., to seek out the uninfected and recruit them to help rebuild society."

"What society? I thought the whole U.S. was overrun by MR-1," the dark man said.

Powers cocked an eye. Not just _anyone_ knew the code name for the mutated rabies virus, but he shrugged the thought off and continued, "The U.S. government, in coercion with the U.K. Special Forces, has been reestablishing military installations all over the east coast and deep south for the last nine months. While the U.S. isn't even close to 'back to normal,' humanity is reclaiming territory, and a number of survivors have been found."

"I hate the government," the tattooed man said. "They're the reason we're in this shit in the first place. God damn power-hungry bastards tryin' to engineer bio-weapons..."

_This_ was too coincidental. If he didn't know better, Powers would say this vest-wearin wanker was more than just a conspiracy theorist.

"Anyway," the young bronzed beauty said. "My name's Zoey. This is Louis, and that's Francis," she gestured to the two men behind her, the dark man named Louis standing close behind her, as though he had a claim to stake on her.

Sgt. Powers stiffened, his heart raced. These were the ones he'd been searching for! At long last, he could return home!

He quickly pulled the radio from his belt. "Rescue Zulu, we have three V.I.P. survivors in need of immediate evac. Repeat, V.I.P. Survivors! Return to drop off point for rendezvous."

"Wait a minute, who said we _wanted _to be rescued?" Zoey asked. Louis and Francis nodded.

Sgt. Powers was no fool; he'd memorized the classified dossiers on these yanks. Louis was a systems analyst, and probably the most out of place "roughing it." Zoey was a college student, no doubt spoiled as well by the creature comforts of modern civilization. Francis was a biker, who probably had to deal with worse, but no doubt longed for the open road. This island was no more than a beach-front prison with a view. While these three wouldn't admit it, Powers knew they wanted _off. _ They had done quite well surviving as long as they had, but they couldn't hold out here forever, and it was no way to spend the rest of their lives. Chances are they were only being difficult because they didn't trust the military, and hoping that some civilian group would find them, but that was a far off chance. R.E.S.C.U.E. had done numerous sweeps for ships along the coast, but had come up "dry." What little survivors were left were in pockets on the main-land, and all civilians were being routed to the reclaimed bases to assist rebuilding them.

The sergeant wasn't about to let these three paranoid Yankees keep him from going home. The thought of using brute force crossed his mind, but he dismissed it. He wanted to know first hand the accounts of the battle with Dr. Tyre, and the three survivors would be much more likely to share their experience if they came along willingly. No, he would have to be a bit more clever to "convince" them to return to Echo Rho Tau...

"Suit yourselves. You lot seem to be living it up like Robinson Crusoe." Sgt. Powers gestured to his men as the helicopter lowered onto the beach a good distance behind the group, its back door opening. His squad took on a quick trot and filed into the belly of the flying beast, leaving Sgt. Powers alone with the three survivors. "Dr. Allan will be disappointed, after all his research depended on us finding you three, but maybe he can take solace knowing you're all still alive."

"How's Dr. Allan doing?" Louis asked. He considered the doctor to be the only one out of the military research bunch who still had a firm grasp on morals.

"Not well. He's been making progress on developing a cure, though it's only 33% effective. His primary efforts are geared toward producing a vaccine so this virus can't continue to spread, but 'e needs more blood from immune survivors to continue his research. The doc works tirelessly, and if it weren't for that lively assistant of 'is, I'm sure the poor bugger would keel over."

"Wait," Francis said, stepping forward. "His assistant? Is that still.. uh... I mean is she..."

The muffled laughter could be heard behind the big man's gas mask. "'You refferin' to that black beauty of an assistant with knockas to die for?"

"Alexis?" Francis said, sounding hopeful and completely dropping his mask of distrust.

"That's 'er. Quite the flirt." The biker glared daggers at that comment, but the sarge continued. "She said I reminded 'er of a guy named Francis..."

The biker's eyes perked up at that.

"She got all teary-eyed when she mentioned your name," Powers said, egging him on.

The biker remembered himself, his tough-guy facade surfacing again. "Well... I guess I owe her a phone call. Said I'd keep in touch. And since you don't have a cell phone on you sarge, I guess I should go with you so I can tell her why I haven't called."

Powers laughed at that, the first time he'd full out laughed in a long time. Probably just the prospect of putting his military career behind him once he delivered these three survivors.

One down, two to go.

"What do you think Louis?" Zoey asked, turning to the dark man and laying a caramel-colored hand on his dark chest.

"I think that if you and I are going to get on with starting a family we need to have a physician present, and Dr. Allan's the only one I'd trust to deliver our future child." Louis said, gently kissing his love. "Besides... I have a good feeling about this."

Two down, one left.

Zoey smiled, fingers gently tracing down Louis pecs, the prospect of having his baby put butterflies in her tummy. The sound of the big sergeant clearing his throat snapped her out of her daydream. She looked up at the burly man again, his face unreadable behind the mask. While she didn't much like his generally passive attitude, if he was truly working with Dr. Allan then perhaps he could be trusted.

Besides, this punk ass bitch island was getting old really quick.

"Alright." Zoey said. "Let's go 'home.'"

.

* * *

.

The ride back in the helicopter was a long one, and generally quiet until Zoey decided to break the ice with the large, silent sergeant.

"So where are we going?" She asked.

"The final destination is Echo Rho Tau, but we'll be making a refueling stop in Rayford, Georgia."

Zoey shivered, the thought of the town the horrible memories causing goosebumps to rise over her skin. Sgt. Powers noticed the audible shiver, but attributed it to the cooler air of the helicopter's windowless bay. Not to mention several soldiers were still stealing glances at the college girl's bared bust.

" 'Ere, take this," he said, removing his large BDU jacket and handing it over.

"Thank you," Zoey sighed as she threw the jacket over her shoulders. Another shiver passed over her frame as she recalled when Bill had done the same thing for Eris, the first night they'd met her. God she missed them so much.

"We're stoppin' in Rayford for fuel? When we passed through, that town was overrun," Francis said.

"That town has been reclaimed, in fact it was the very first town that R.E.S.C.U.E 'liberated'," the sergeant said. "Walls have been built up around it, and the train station is operational. There's a decent number of military and civilians stationed there who are working to rebuild the entire town. Condemned buildings are being rebuilt or demolished. We've even been able to reroute power to the town from a nearby plant that was brought back online."

"How many bases have you guys brought back up?" Louis asked.

"We've reclaimed twenty so far, though very few of them are more than a skeleton crew working to establish perimeters. Only about four or five 'ave civilians stationed there and are considered safe zones."

"Must be tough," Francis said, running a hand over his overgrown facial hair. He seriously needed a close encounter with a razor before he saw Alexis again. "With all those damn commoners attracted to noise, dunno how you can even hammer a nail, let alone build a wall."

"That's where Dr. Allan's work 'as been a life saver. Even with a 33% success rate, the doc's been able to cure a small number of the 'common' zombies. The m'jority die from the treatment, but those that survive come back with a full memory."

"So Dr. Allan's been busy cleaning up the mess Dr. Tyre made." Louis asked.

"Yes. In fact he's even figured a means to bring sanity back to some of the special infected. Personally I don't like the idea, but its not my show to run." Powers said, bare arms visible now that his jacket was off.

"Bull shit!" Francis said. "Are you saying he's trying to _save _those freaks?"

Zoey glared at the biker. "Don't forget Francis, one of those 'freaks' saved our lives."

"Are we going to see these 'rehabilitated' special infected in Rayford?" Louis asked, a slight quiver in his voice.

"No. The specials...they're a unique lot. It's not about curing them, as much as it is giving them back their sanity," Powers said. "They suffer from complete memory loss, no doubt their viral transformation takes a toll on 'em. Dr. Allan has only managed to cure a dozen or so, and most of them are a wreck. Need counseling or anti-depressants."

There was a moment of silence while the survivors digested this information. Dr. Allan had mentioned Eris' unique condition was proof that this virus could be controlled, an endeavor that Tyre had thrown himself into... in more ways that one.

"So you three brought down the mad doctor Tyre after he transformed himself into one of his own creations?" The sergeant said, breaking the silence.

"We had some help," Zoey said, looking away for a moment. She hadn't thought about the fight for quite a while; too many painful memories. "But we're the only ones left..."

"Yes, one of those who fell was my brother-in-law, Xavier Malory." Powers said, sighing beneath his mask. "His wife, my sister, perished because of Dr. Tyre's experiments. I... feel some closure meeting the blokes and lass who delivered vengeance."

Zoey felt a pang of guilt, she'd forgotten about Xavier and Heather's mutual sacrifice. She was still thinking of Bill and Eris, who'd both survived the battle but now were gone forever.

The helicopter shifted, slowly descending over the town of Rayford, a place the survivors never thought they'd be returning to.

"I'm sorry about your brother-in-law," Louis said. "We lost two very close friends who may as well have been family."

"William Overbeck and the Siren prototype, Eris," Powers said. He waved a hand as the three survivors stiffened in surprise. "Again, I've been informed about all parties involved. From what I've read in the reports, it's no wonder those two lasted as long as they have."

The helicopter shuddered as it touched down, the back gate opening. Everyone stood, Powers gesturing to the survivors to take the lead.

"Had." Zoey sighed, correcting him, as they headed towards the open back door, the sunlight glaring on their eyes. "Bill died to protect us in Rayford. And Eris... she..."

Louis placed his arm around her shoulder, hugging the college girl as she fought back her tears. Though it had been nine months, their passing seemed like only yesterday.

Powers said nothing as they began to file towards the rear of the chopper. A number of military and medical personnel were waiting just outside, though two people stood closest to the helicopter as though expecting them. It was difficult to make them out with the sun back-lighting them. As the three survivors emerged into the sunlight, a familiar pair of faces came into view.

Francis felt his jaw fall open, Louis' legs turned to rubber, and Zoey felt dizzy as spots formed in front of her eyes. Not a word was uttered, until Zoey finally found her voice.

"Oh my God!" she cried, trying to keep from falling over. "You're... you're..."

"Hi guys," said a familiar voice. "Miss us?"

Zoey's eyes fluttered, then the ground rushed up to meet her.

.

* * *

.

A/N: Okay I understand a lot of you are probably wondering why I went into such detail about Sergeant Powers. Truth of it is, I wanted to introduce another character, though I can't claim total ownership of him. He's a character from a game known as Killing Floor (which is copyright of TripWire). It's similar to Left 4 Dead, though a lot tougher in my opinion, and fun in a different way. In a way this chapter could fall under the "crossover" category for stories. I may even write a story just for Killing Floor; it would be the first since it doesn't exist as a game category yet. :-)

And if anyone's interested in the picture of Sergeant Powers killing the Patriarch, you can see it on my deviant art page here: xmodius . deviantart . com / # / d3gzmct

In any event, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, and I promise you'll have an answer (of sorts) as to what happened. ;-) Stay tuned! And please review!


	21. Rayford Rewind

_**Legal Disclaimer: The following characters and their owners are below.**_

_**TripWire: Sergeant Powers**_

_**Valve: Bill, Zoey, Louis, Francis, Hunter, Smoker, Boomer, Tank, Witch**_

_**xmodius: Eris, Siren concept character, Tyre, S-Tank concept character, and any other characters not listed above.**_

_Mature Content Warning: Violence and gore, sex and nudity. Granted this chapter doesn't contain very much of either, but yeah I'm covering my ass._

Author's Notes: This chapter will scratch the itch I gave all of you nearly two months ago (sorry no creams for that, but hey you all knew that when you dove in). Sorry for the delay, but some bitch named Irene decided to party in my neck of the woods. Girl get's around and parties hard, because I heard over 700,000 people besides me lost power because of her. For those who aren't on the East Coast or who don't watch the news, Hurricane Irene made land fall during the last week of August and caused major flooding and property damage along the eastern states.

.

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Chapter 20: Rayford Rewind

..

.

"Hey. You alright?"

Zoey groaned and shielded her eyes from the bright sun. Louis was leaning over her, concern and relief in his dark eyes.

"Wha... what happened?" She asked, rubbing her eyes.

"You passed out," Francis said, matter-of-factly.

"Th.. the rescue?" Zoey mumbled as she sat up. "It... it was all a dream, wasn't it?"

"No," came that familiar voice, and once again Zoey felt her heart stop. "Though it's pretty damn surreal."

Zoey blinked several times, focusing on the ghost that haunted her dreams for nine months. But the familiar wrinkled hand that pulled her to her feet felt real enough.

"Bill!" Zoey cried and threw herself into the war vet's arms. The old soldier caught her with ease and hugged her tight, but was nearly caught off guard when his petite comrade kissed him on the lips.

"I missed you too Zoey," Bill said. "It's good to see all of you. I always wondered if you three made it to that island." The old vet chuckled. "Shouldn't be surprised. You three are tougher than iron nails."

"I... We thought you were done for," Zoey said in a muffled voice as she buried her face in to the war vet's shoulder, still not letting go.

"Not a chance..." Bill started, gently rubbing Zoey's back.

"We're suriivvoors," sang another familiar voice.

Zoey's head popped up the way a dog perks its ears at a high-pitched noise. Bill nearly got his chin whacked by the college girl's head as she suddenly turned towards the source.

The auburn-haired beauty's mouth fell open, tears blurring her vision. Warm, inviting amber eyes and a delicate gray-lipped smile greeted the stunned college girl. Standing before her was the woman she swore had become no more than a memory. The beautiful angel of her dreams, or the haunting specter of her nightmares. Eris' platinum hair was even longer than before, spilling like twin waterfalls over her shoulders before crashing below her chest in a layer of beautiful snow white curls. Her hair was parted a bit off center, sending a set of bangs to sweep over one of her amber eyes, nearly covering it completely. She wore a white dress that fitted her supple curves but bared her shoulders and arms, much like the one Zoey remembered picking out for her so long ago in that safe house. Her skin was still the smooth gray complexion of the afternoon sky before a summer storm, but her large hands no longer bared their sets of deadly dagger-length claws. They were trimmed and filed to a rounded point, only vaguely resembling human fingernails. These hands were held open in an inviting manner.

Zoey tried to speak, but nothing more than a tiny squeak peeped from her slack jaw. It was at that moment her legs took action instead. She simply ran at her lost comrade, tackling her full force.

Eris caught the petite college girl in her arms without losing her balance, squeezing her tight. Zoey planted several kisses on her cheeks, earning a giggle from her gray friend.

"I missed yooouu too, Zoooey," Eris said, with a lot more ease than the college girl remembered. The gray goddess hardly every spoke more than two or three words, and here she was talking in complete sentences.

"I can't believe it! I..." Wet streaks of happiness ran down the college girl's face as she stammered. "You're alive! I'm... so happy... I..."

But Zoey couldn't finish. The girl who was "tough as iron nails" sobbed without conviction.

The gray goddess felt tears running down her face as she gently stroked Zoey's cheek with one of her "manicured" hands. She'd loved and missed all of them, but she loved her petite auburn flower almost as much as she loved Bill. She too, thought she would never see her friends again. Having everyone together at long last filled her with such a joy she simply could not contain.

Eris started singing.

Sergeant Powers nearly lost his own rigid composure. He'd met Bill and Eris months ago when R.E.S.C.U.E. liberated the town of Rayford, though the gray woman wasn't exactly the social type back then. He'd only known about Eris' unique abilities through the reports he'd read, having never experienced them first hand. Her voice was enchanting, relaxing every fiber of his being and instilling a state of utter tranquility. A very dangerous attribute from his point of view, the ability to hypnotize so many people could be a means of control.

But it didn't make her song any less enjoyable, and if anything it made her even more incredible. Within moments, every soldier within earshot was drawn to the gorgeous singing angel, all of them beginning to crowd around like commoners to a pipe bomb.

Zoey felt a warmth bloom in her bosom; how she'd missed the siren's melodious voice. It made her forget about the aftermath of hell the world had become, taking all the nightmares away on every note. It was so relaxing that she hardly noticed that something had wrapped around her and the gray goddess. It felt soft and light, enveloping them from both sides with a feather touch. It tickled a little against her skin, and seemed to flutter while drawing her closer to the gray woman.

The petite survivor rubbed her eyes; she must've been on that island too long because she swore she was hallucinating again...

Surrounding both her and Eris, was a large pair of midnight feathered wings. The sun-tanned survivor could feel the tips of them touching her calves, suggesting they were easily as tall as the gray goddess at their ends. And how they wrapped around them both with room to spare suggested they easily spanned twelve feet.

"Are... are these real?" Zoey asked, snaking her hand up and running two fingers over the top of one wing. The feathers were smooth and silky to the touch. Eris shivered and an involuntary coo of pleasure escaped her lips, breaking her melody.

"They're very real," Bill said. "Very sensitive too."

The other survivors chuckled as Zoey's face turned red with embarrassment. Eris giggled and gently released Zoey from her wings, lightly flapping them once before they folded half behind her back, the larger portion resting around her shoulders almost like a feathered cape.

Louis placed an arm around his love, gently kissing her cheek. "You okay? I know it's a lot to take in all at once. Heck me and Francis nearly joined you on the ground."

Francis nodded,"Damn right. Swore the old man and his girlfriend were ghosts when we stepped off that helicopter."

Zoey was about to answer, but she noticed the stark difference between the town she remembered from her nightmares. Everywhere there were soldiers and civilians hustling and bustling, carrying building materials or supplies as they worked to rebuild the town. They'd landed near the Army Reserve building, the same place the train had taken them for their last trek through hell. Zoey remembered that building missing a chunk of its brick wall when they'd arrived before. Now it looked brand new.

"How? How did this happen?" Zoey asked, gesturing to the gray goddess and her new aerial appendages.

"My wings came with Biiillll," Eris said. The three island survivors exchanged confused glances.

"It's a long story." Bill said.

Zoey scratched her head in confusion. "How long was I out?"

"I'd say a few minutes," Louis said. Sure enough, Sergeant Powers and the rest of his squad was still standing by, but they weren't alone. Numerous soldiers working around the town had been drawn to the siren's song.

"This town looks like it was just built," Zoey said, looking around. "Talk about night and day."

Louis nodded. "Yeah, last time we came though here it was..."

"A derelict, run-down, shit hole," Francis finished, looking around as well. "Now it looks like a brand new shit hole."

Bill shook his head. "Glad to see island living didn't soften you up Francis." The biker said nothing though. "I'm sure all of you have a lot of questions."

"Damn right we do," Louis said, not unpleasantly as he hugged Zoey from behind, smiling at Bill and Eris standing side by side, with Francis off to one side. His good feeling had been spot on. They were together again.

The survivors were reunited, at long last.

"Okay old man," Francis said. "Start talking."

Bill started talking.

. 

* * *

.

"_Cover me! I'll take care of it! I shouted over the roar of zombies trying to scramble up the halted bridge. The mob was closing fast, and even with Louis behind that mounted gun, we couldn't hold them off forever._

"_How the hell are you gonna get back up here?" Francis shouted._

"_I don't know, but Eris is still down there! I'm not leaving her behind!" I shouted, pulling back the bolt on my M16. "Zoey, light those bastards up for me!" _

"_Bill! Noooo!" Zoey screamed for me, though by now it was hard to tell if it was genuine concern or outright frustration. She and I had been at odds with each other about our next plan of action since the train ride down to this shit hole. I know none of them liked the island plan, but it was better than being on the run for the rest of our lives._

_Well, for the rest of _their _lives, now._

_I know this is it. Restarting that generator is going to be my death sentence. With three tanks closing in, there's not a chance in hell I'm going to make it. Those overgrown gorillas always focus on me first, so hopefully my death will be quick. Painless? Yeah right. Quick? About as quick as being crushed to death can be. But what's worse is I won't get to say goodbye to any of them, not even the one I love more than anything._

_Eris. Shit I hope she's alright. Can't see her through this swarm of commoners. But it doesn't matter. Start the generator first. I know it's what she'd want me to do anyway. Save the others before saving her. She's so selfless, it's frustrating._

_But then so am I._

_I shoved a common zombie aside, knocking him straight into a line of bullets from Louis' big gun. Zoey and Francis cut more down that were trying to flank me, and in front of me it was a clear shot. Just have to run straight, then pull a U-turn around the edge of that fence, then start that damn generator while watching out for special infected. All that before those tanks get close enough to flatten me with a chunk of concrete._

_Hell. I love a challenge._

_My hand flew out to grab the end of the fence, helping me swing around it that much faster. My feet are sliding on the pavement, my muscles hurt like hell, but I'm not done yet. This old body has one more task before it can rest. I rip open the side panel, damn near burn my hand doing it. A breaker has blown, and its nearly as hot. I have to flip the damn thing three times before it resets. Finally I hear the click, and I fire it up. The generator rumbles, and the third hydraulic engine in the building beside me roars to life._

_Or maybe that's the tank who's just thrown a huge chunk of Rayford's road right at me._

_I scream on impact, its like being hit by a bus. I'm half choking on my own blood as I'm taken right off my feet. I hear someone scream from the bridge, but its all nearly muted compared to the ringing in my ears, it's like the Vatican's church bell just gonged right by my head. My vision's fuzzy too, not that I can see more than the horde of common zombies who've already answered my cry for help, ready to kick me into the after life. They're already crowding around, some even fighting each other for a piece of me. Several are already beating the living shit out of me. I'm still too disoriented to fight back..._

_But it turns out I don't have to. I hear that familiar grunt, feel the ground shaking, and then every maniac beating on me is slapped aside by one massive arm. Oh no, the commoners are not going to get this tank's_ _kill. I try to stand, but I'm sent off my feet right away by another punch. I slide through the open door by the hydraulic engines, propped up against one like a rag doll without the stuffing. The tank is pounding his chest, a chest that's bleeding from a lot of bullet holes already, but not enough to stop him from flattening me. I see the other two tanks decided to go after the younger meat on the bridge. Means my death is going to take longer than I thought. The tank has a little trouble squeezing through the door, his hulking body is blocking out the daylight, casting the shadow of doom over me._

_I remember this moment. Of all the times I can't remember shit, I remember this. From my dream. Eris and I fighting side by side. She saved me in that dream because she was right by my side, but now she may as well be on the other side of the world._

_Now, I'm going to die._

"_I'll deal with you in a second," I grunt, sitting up against the engine. I go for the cigarettes that aren't in my pocket, and laugh at myself. I'd given them up when I met Eris..._

"_Eris... I'm sorry sweetheart."_

_The tank is finally through the door with a roar of frustration and part of the door frame; an errant brick clatters at my foot. I've already loaded my last clip, and I let fly with my one good arm barely resisting the machine gun's recoil. Most of my shots fly off to one side, catching the big bastard in his shoulder. He punches me again for good measure but it feels weaker than before, all that lead in him is finally taking a toll. Instead of being hit by a train, it feels like being hit by a car, and it's still a wonder I'm not knocked out. My M16 falls from my grip, into a pool of my own blood that's beginning to grow on the floor. Those two huge hands fold together as he raises them over his head in a hammer blow._

_I hear another blood-curdling scream from somewhere, but it no longer matters. God grants me a final moment of mercy and brings the darkness over my eyes before I can see my own end. I don't even feel the death blow land._

_I feel my body lifting up as my mind drifts away, as though I really am going to float up into heaven. I'm in so much pain I don't even notice it anymore. I think that's what happens when you finally die. Your pain is there for one more moment of torment, and then it's gone. The mind tries to release as many endorphins as possible, to make that transition into death as pleasant as it can be. Its said that's why people "see the light" when they die, it's their mind tricking them as it slips them into a moment of euphoria before everything shuts down._

_And that's how I know I'm finished. I feel almost weightless, as though I'm being carried, yet I know I'm not moving. My eyes are closed, but I can see the light all around me. I feel like I've gone deaf, yet I can hear the singing of heaven's angels. _

_My angel..._

_My Eris... _

_Will I see you again in heaven?_

_Though I can't feel anything, I can only pray I will feel her wings around me again, welcoming me in all her glory._

. 

* * *

.

"How poetic," Francis remarked dryly. Bill and Eris were standing together, holding hands like a couple of high school sweethearts.

"Even after nine months on an island, you're still the same old sack of road apples, Francis." Bill said with a laugh.

"You really thought you were done for, huh Bill?" Louis asked.

"Shoot I _knew _he was done for," Francis quipped.

"Shows how much you know," Zoey retorted, smiling as Bill and Eris stood together.

"I thought I was too, but worse was I thought Eris would never wake up," Bill said, squeezing her hands.

"Biiilll, yooou helped me waaakeee from my niiightmaarreee." Eris said to her love, folding her fingers around his.

"You remember then?" Zoey asked the winged siren. "When you were in a coma?"

Eris nodded. "Wheeenn I thoought I'd loost Biiill foreveerr."

. 

* * *

.

_The darkness surrounds her. Enveloping. Smothering._

_She hears him scream. Somewhere. Somewhere close by. She wants to help, but the pain. The pain is unbearable; her back feels like thorns will burst from it._

_Bill's screams fills her ears again. No. Fight the pain. Save Bill!_

_All around her is silent, save her lover's cry for help and the roar of his would-be killer._

_She looks around, darkness everywhere. Not even the ground beneath her feet can be seen._

_But she sees her lover, she see's his faded outline, nearly invisible, and the larger hulking form of a tank about to extinguish his dying flame._

_She races for him, fast as she's ever run before. Her legs feel like lead. Bill is so close, yet so far. The tank's back is to her, his hands together and raised..._

_The goddess shrieks and lunges, slashing at the tank's back with her one clawed hand..._

_But she catches only air. The tank is gone. She looks around, confused. No tank, no zombies, nothing._

_Then she feels it, warm and liquid at her feet. She looks down._

_Blood._

_A pool of it, growing from beneath her lover's body, has finally found its way to her toes at it continues to spread._

"_Biillll!" The siren screams. Her lover is slouched over, unresponsive. His body sinks into the expanding pool of blood as though it were a lake, his beret left floating on the shimmering red surface. The gray goddess screams in horror, and she desperately plunges her hands into the deep pool, hoping to pull her lover out before he's gone forever._

_Suddenly the blood is covering her, not just her arms, but dripping everywhere like a crimson rain. The empty building crumbles like wet sand, a driving wind blowing it away to reveal a tree line that whips back and forth with a storm's fury behind it. The sky is near dusk, what little sunlight left fading in an orange-yellow glow from between the storm clouds. The unseen ground falls from her feet, and with a scream the confused siren finds herself hanging from a rooftop rain gutter; the slain tank's blood dripping from her body as the rain begins to fall._

_Then she sees it. The helicopter, sailing over the trees, taking her friends and her lover with them._

"_Eris... I'm sorry..." Bill cries from the chopper as it carries him away._

"_Biiilll!" Eris wails, her grip breaking. "Plleeaasssee don't leeaave meee!"_

_The rain gutter gives way and Eris screams as she plummets to the ground._

_She lands with a thud, the ground shaking beneath her. The cabin in the woods has been replaced by the smokey aftermath of the train yard battle. The sunset sky is now dark, save for the moonlight illuminating the yard. Bill is sprawled out on the cold earth, his back scorched to a blackened husk by the diesel tank explosion. His final sacrifice to save her._

"_Nooo! Biiiiilll! Eris cries, tears pouring down her face._

"_Erriss..." the soldier says weakly. "You have to..."_

_A shadow falls over them, and as Eris turns to face it, she feels her heart fall into her stomach._

_Standing before her like a huge red skyscraper is Tyre. Back from the dead, his bellowing laughter washes out all thought._

_The siren stands protectively in front of her dying soldier as she faces the behemoth. The pain in her back erupts as a pair of wings bursts from her shoulder blades. Black, bloodied, and dripping, she extends them to try and hide her lover from the mad man's murderous gaze._

"_Leeavee hiiim allooonee!"_

_Tyre laughs, snatching her up by her new appendages. The gray goddess shrieks and struggles, wings flapping like an injured bird in Tyre's death grip._

"_You're both going to DIE!" Tyre roars, going face to face with the struggling siren._

"_Pllleeaaaseee, let hiiim gooo!" Eris cries._

_The huge S-Tank grins sadistically, answering her plea by ripping both wings right off._

_Eris screams as pain explodes from the two bloodied stumps on her shoulder blades. She falls onto the ground, twisting and writhing, slashing at the air with her one good claw to keep the mad doctor back._

"_Begging for mercy?" Asks his inhuman voice. "You're so weak! So pathetic! Perhaps you were a failure after all..."_

_The fallen angel is barely able to stand against the pain. She rises to her feet just as Tyre brings a massive foot over her and Bill, about to crush them both._

"_Don't worry, neither of you will ever have to face the real world again!" Tyre roars._

"_Noooo! I'm nooot weeeak!" She screams, the very air vibrating. Tyre recoils at her sudden outburst, staggering back and covering his ears. _

"_I'm strrooong!" Eris sings louder as Tyre backs away, her confidence growing despite the burning pain from her back. "I'll neeeever give up!"_

"_You can't handle reality! You can't face the fact that one day you're going to lose him!" Tyre roars, pointing in accusation. "You're just a dreamer! One who should stay sheltered in her sleep forever!"_

"_I'm not a dreaaamer! I'm a surrviiivooorr!" Eris screams._

"_Then WAKE UP!"_

. 

* * *

__

"So that scream I heard really was you," Francis said, scratching his overgrown beard. "Shit I thought you were done for."

"Nooo," Eris said. "Iiii was just getting staaarrted..."

. 

* * *

__

_Eris eyes flew open, the sound of gunfire and and battle cries filling her ears. She leaned against a brick wall, near a section of a road somewhere._

_Where is everyone?_

_A tank was climbing onto a partially raised bridge, gunfire from above peppering it. _

_The survivors! They're up on the bridge!_

_A cry of agony reached her ears, somewhere behind her. The gray goddess leaped to her feet, a strange pain in her back suddenly making itself known. She growled but ignored it, focusing on another tank behind a chain link fence closing in on someone inside the building she was leaning against. Her amber eyes narrowed before suddenly growing wide with shock, her inner sight revealing a familiar glowing aura._

_Bill! Alive!_

_But the larger and brighter glowing aura of the tank was near him, like a fire compared to a candle flame._

_Bill was in trouble!_

_The gray goddess ran around the fence, swinging around the end with her left clawed hand. Her only weapon now. The tank's back was to her as he closes in on his prey. Gunfire erupted from the entryway of the building, the big creature grunted as it absorbed more hot lead. _

_Eris saw a familiar hand near the floor, a weapon falling out of its grip as the tank slugged the shooter again._

_Her lover's aura was almost gone! The tank was going to finish him!_

_One day the gray goddess knew she would love her lover to the hand of death, for those were the nightmares she'd conquered while a prisoner inside her own mind. _

_But she would be damned if it was going to be today!_

_Eris shrieked and charged the tank full force, throwing her weight into her thrust as she stabbed it in the back. Her claws split skin and severed bone, and a spray of fresh blood spattered her chest. The tank roared in surprise and outrage, spinning around and pulling his attacker with him. A massive hand reached behind to grab the siren, throwing her into an opposite wall inside the building, several yards away._

_The strange pain in the siren's back was nearly crippling with that blow, as though someone stabbed her with two knives. She snarled and rose to her feet, trying to shake off the stars. The tank was limping towards her, murderous rage in its beady eyes. Even weakened, Eris knew she was no match for the huge infected; she lacked the agility to dodge it with this tenacious pain in her back._

_The tank lumbered closer, murderous rage in its eyes. In a second, Eris was going to know what real pain was all about. _

_She had but one chance. Lips trembling, she drew in a deep breath, her chest puffing out._

_The tank had closed the distance and swung an arm back, roaring as it prepared to strike._

_Eris placed her hands to her mouth and screamed._

_The shock wave sent the tank staggering back, and before it could even try to cover its ears, its head exploded from the sonic wave. With a sickening thud, the muscly corpse collapsed in a pool of blood. _

_The gray goddess limped over to her lover, who was barely hanging on with a thread of life. To anyone else, he'd be left for dead, but Eris knew better._

_Bill was... is... a survivor._

_The fallen angel picked her lover up in a bridal carry. The pain in her back arced up her shoulders, and the gray goddess hissed. It didn't matter though. Nothing would stop her. Nothing will take Bill from her. As she shifted his weight, the war vet groaned, a cold sweat on his forehead._

"_Biiillll... plleeasssee haang ooon." Eris sang to her love, trying to relax him. The old vet was breathing, but barely. She had to get him to a safe area now. Those common zombies wouldn't stay distracted for long._

_A sudden crack of thunder echoed in the southern sky. A storm was coming._

_The war vet groaned, his forehead in a cold sweat. She had to hurry. She continued her melody, more so to soothe her fallen lover and calm her own nerves than anything else. Panicking would solve nothing. Hurry! Find a safe house!_

_Making haste, the gray goddess carried her soldier through the buildings to emerge at a side street. A bus was parked across from several small abandoned store fronts, but none were secured. She climbed a collapsed concrete barrier, emerging at the top of a street leading from the bridge. Off in the distance she could see the three auras of the survivors as they crowded around another tank trying to finish them off._

_Save Bill. The others will be fine._

_Cutting through a small convenience store, the goddess slipped through a back door, emerging into the store's loading bay. A heavy patter of rain was already falling, washing the excess blood from her face. The darkening sky occasionally lit up with a random lightning bolt as the sky released its payload. Small puddles were forming in the alley behind the loading dock, and several yards away was a familiar red steel door._

_A safe house!_

_Her bare gray feet slapped against the wet alley, puddles splashing. She kicked the safe room door open and quickly slammed it shut with her rump. Inside was a small dirty mattress against the right-hand wall, and an old, dusty workbench off to the left. Sitting on it was a fire ax and a magnum pistol, along with a pile of ammo._

_But what caught her amber eyes was the familiar red cabinet on the wall with a white cross over the door._

_First aid!_

_Eris laid her lover on the mattress, a worrying amount of his blood covering her forearms. She'd seen the survivors heal each other before, wrapping bandages around the bleeding parts. It didn't look too hard, and with her lover's life hanging in the balance, she was going to have to learn fast. She hurried over to the work bench and opened the first aid cabinet with her right hand, something that would've been impossible for her before she lost her claws._

_She practically fumbled with the red, backpack sized kit's zipper before she ended up ripping it open. But as the delicate gauze and medical tape spilled onto the work bench, she realized she'd never be able to heal her dying lover. Her left hand's deadly fingernails would make such a dexterous task impossible._

_So close to saving him, yet so far. It wasn't fair!_

"_Rrggh... Errriss..." _

_She spun around to see her lover's eyes closed, his breathing growing shallow. His aura was barely visible._

"_Biiilll," she sobbed, rushing to his side._

"_Most of this... blood aint miinne..." the vet slurred._

"_Plleeeassee... don't diiiee." The sobbing siren begged, her tears falling on her dying survivor's face._

_The war vet chuckled, a sickly wet sound followed by a cough. His shaking hand reached up to wipe a tear from his angel's face. "Don't cry... I want to... remember your face... with a smile." Bill coughed again and a shiver passed through his body._

_Eris felt her heart racing. Bill was losing too much blood. He needed healing now! Frantic, she scanned the room again._

_Her eyes fell upon the fire ax, then to her left hand with its long deadly claws. A crash of thunder outside punctuated the arriving storm and the moment of realization. She knew what she had to do._

_She held the ax in both hands and snapped it over her leg, effectively turning it into an oversized hand ax. With determination she slapped her left hand on the table, fingers splayed. In her right, "declawed" hand, she shakily held the broken ax. She swallowed hard._

_One at a time? Or all at once?_

_She aimed for her pinky first. Smallest would hurt least, right? The siren slowly raised the hand ax over her head, a sudden crash of thunder nearly causing her to drop it. With a sudden exhale she swung down hard, sending the ax head right through her claw and embedding it into the wood. Her breath hitched and she bit her lower lip, trying not to scream. _

_Wrenching the ax free of the table, she aimed for her ring finger next. She couldn't bear to look, but if she didn't she might take her entire finger off. The sky opened up with another crack of thunder, the rain beginning to patter down harder._

_Another sickening split of bone and the thunk of wood beneath it as the ax cleaved her second claw off. Her vision blurred with fresh tears. She wasn't sure she could go through with this..._

_But the groan of her dying lover from behind her on that bed, reminded her to suck it up._

_The middle finger was next, and was the thickest claw of all of them. The ax approached the apex again, high over the siren's head. With a moment of pause, Eris grunted and swung it down._

_She hissed, a constant pain in her digit drawing water from her eyes. Her finger was still wiggling beneath the ax blade, which only went part way through. _

_Eris whimpered, trying to pull the blade free, but it wouldn't budge. Panic was rising, not for herself but for Bill. He would die if she didn't help him. The gray goddess let go of the ax and raised her right hand, closing it to make a fist. This was going to hurt... a lot. She slammed her fist down on top of the ax head, forcing it the rest of the way through._

_The crack of another loud thunder bolt couldn't mask her scream. _

. 

* * *

.

"So that's how you..." Zoey interrupted, staring at Eris' trimmed nails. The college girl suddenly felt as though she was being stared at with scrutiny. Numerous soldiers had gathered closer and were just as invested in this story as the survivors.

"There's more..." Bill said.

. 

* * *

.

_Eris chopped off her index and thumb claws last, nearly vomiting from the ordeal. Even with the distracting pain of severing parts of her bone, the strange throbbing pain in her back was hardly forgettable. After a few minutes leaning against the cold concrete wall to keep her bile down, she looked over her handiwork. Her left hand looked much like her right now, with flat edges near her fingertips. The pain was beginning to fade away..._

_Bill coughed and his body convulsed, reminding the gray goddess how little time she had._

_She worked quickly, tearing some of the gauze in her teeth like she'd once seen Zoey do when healing herself, wrapping smaller sections on his legs and arms first. Bill's chest and stomach were a bit worse,and Eris used the rest to try and keep him from bleeding out. The white gauze turned red quickly, and before she knew it, Eris was out of bandages. She tore open the other three kits, wrapping her lover's chest and stomach in more gauze. Finally, mercifully, the bleeding had stopped._

_But her lover lay still._

"_Biiill?" She whispered, gently touching him. Her lover felt cold. "Noooo! Biiilll..." Eris cried; she was too late. Her wet hair hung in her face, her tears fell like the falling rain as she sobbed over her lover._

_But when she felt Bill's hand squeeze hers, her heart nearly stopped._

_She... she did it! Bill was alive!_

"_That wasn't... rrgh... necessary..." Bill wheezed, focusing on her with one good eye. The other was blackened and swollen. "But... thanks."_

_Eris couldn't help the giggle that squeaked out with her sobbing. Her man was always playing the tough guy. But it didn't matter that he'd nearly scared her to death. He was alive!_

_The corners of Bill's mouth pulled up in a weak smile. "I... want... you to know...that... I..." he whispered... "I love... the way you laugh."_

_The joyful siren laughed amidst her tears of joy, but they did not let up._

"_I wanna... hold you high... and steal your pain..." Bill said, reciting some familiar words. A shaky hand reached into the front pocket of his jacket, withdrawing a slightly crinkled Polaroid picture of two people dancing together, a moment captured on film when they were the happiest they'd ever been in their entire lives. "I keep your... photograph... and I know it serves me well..." Bill smiled up at his angel, his other hand reaching for hers. "I wanna hold you... high and steal... your pain."_

"_Cause I'm broookeeen, wheeen I'm looonesome. And I don't feeeeell riiiight, when you're gone awaaaay." Eris sang their song. Back when they'd danced together she didn't know the words, but now they were as clear in her mind as that wonderful moment they shared beneath the star-lit sky. _

"_You'd gone away..." Bill sighed, thinking of the moment he truly thought he'd lost her. "You don't feel me here... anymore."_

_Eris touched her lover's face reassuringly, letting the words flow forth. "The worst is over noooww... and we can breathe agaaaiin. I wanna hold you high, you steal myyyy pain... awaaaay. There's so much left to leeeaarrrn..." _

"_And no one... left to fight," Bill added to her voice._

"_I wanna hold you high and steeeaaaallll yooouur paaaain," She sang louder now, the joy of that moment filling her heart. "'Cause I'm broookeeen, wheeen I'm ooopppeeen, and I don't feeeel liiike, Iiii aaam strooong enooougghh. 'Cause I'm broooookeeeen when I'm looonnesoome, and I don't feeee riiiiight, when you're goooonee awaaaay- mmmph!"_

_Eris' melody was brought to a pleasant, premature end when Bill pulled her down by one hand and kissed her tenderly. The elated gray woman felt like her heart would burst. Despite being nearly bludgeoned to death, her lover still mustered enough strength to kiss her, with as much passion as he ever had. In that moment, Eris knew she wouldn't lose Bill to death so easily. Only when he was good and ready, would her soldier be called home._

_And by the way he was kissing her, she knew that wouldn't be for a long time._

. 

* * *

.

"Awwww!" Zoey cooed as she hugged on Louis, mimicking Eris' latch onto Bill. The dreamy look in the college girl's eyes was almost creepy.

"Awwww!" Francis said with a sarcastic grin, mocking her. "I think I'm gonna hurl."

"'Least you're not wearin' a gas mask to stop _you_ from chuck'n up," Sgt. Powers quipped.

Zoey shot an icy stare at the burly soldier, who visibly flinched a little but held her gaze behind his mask.

"What about... uh..." Louis started, scratching the back of his head. "Those?"

Eris had wrapped her left wing around Bill's shoulder, pulling him closer. The war vet chuckled and Eris gently fluttered both wings before resuming her hug around him.

"We still don't know how it happened," Bill said, gently running his hand over the longer feathers that were near the tips. "Not even Dr. Allan could figure it out, and he was all over it like ants at a picnic."

"They're very impressive," Louis said. Eris smiled demurely at him. "Can you fly?"

Eris shook her head, sheepishly. "Iiii haven't triiied. Iiiii... don't like the ideaaa of falllling."

"Ya mean you don't like the idea of flying?" Francis asked.

"Nooo... I mean _faallling_." Eris said with a smirk.

"Can't say I blame ya," Francis said to the gray goddess. "I hate heights."

"According to Dr. Allan, the most she might be able to do is glide," Bill said.

"Why couldn't she flap her wings to fly?" Zoey asked.

"Well uh... it's her... umm..." Bill mumbled, turning away.

"Say what?" Louis asked.

"Her uh..." Bill trailed off again, mumbling.

"Speak up old man!" Francis growled.

"My weeeiiight," Eris said, practically laughing at Bill's embarrassment. She didn't know why he would always get nervous when it was brought up, after all this wasn't the first time the question had been presented about her wings being useable. Even Dr. Allan seemed nervous when he first explained to the both of them why she probably wouldn't be able to fly.

Still, seeing her otherwise cool and collected war vet nervous and bashful, always made her grin.

"Yeah." Bill said, exhaling. "Eris weighs almost two hundred pounds."

"Holy hell!" Francis blurted out.

A sudden blur came out of nowhere, and then the loud crack of a hand slapping greasy biker-cheek filled the air.

Francis lost his balance from the force and landed right on his chapped ass. He expected to see angry amber eyes about to set him ablaze on the spot, but Eris still stood by Bill, several feet away from him with a hand in front of her mouth as she tried not to laugh.

"Who the?" He started, but Zoey's daggers for eyes answered him right quick. The college girl glared at him for a moment, daring him to say something, but Francis only rubbed his cheek and grumbled as he stood up. Zoey huffed, then turned her appalled expression to their lost comrade.

"Bill! How dare you talk about a woman's weight right in front of her!" She looked at Eris apologetically, but the smiling siren didn't seem to mind. Obviously the social faux pas was over her head. Perhaps that was a good thing. "Still..." Zoey said, eying the tall, slender, yet buxom gray goddess' curves. "I have to admit I'd never guess two hundred. One-forty at most. How can she weigh so much?"

"Her wings partially, but Dr. Allan believes her increased weight is mostly due to her bones and muscles being three times more dense than a typical person." Bill said.

"So though her muscles and bones aren't bigger, it's more of them packed into the same space?" Louis asked. "Like comparing a block of wood to a block of lead that are both the same size?"

"Exactly." Bill said. "It's also why she's much stronger than any of us, even though she doesn't look it. Thus her increased density would prevent her from being able to fly by flapping her wings."

"Gettin' back to 'ow she got 'er wings..." Said a muffled cockney voice.

Everyone's eyes turned to the typically stoic Sergeant Powers, who merely shrugged.

"I'm interested t'know 'ow she got 'em."

"Well then..." Bill said.

. 

* * *

.

_It had been a few days since Eris had brought Bill to the safe room. He was healing, but still in no condition to fight, and with no food or water, things were looking grim. At first neither of them were sure as to how they were going to survive. Without food or water, they'd be dead within days._

_It was only by a stroke of luck they'd managed to find a hidden storage cellar beneath the small abandoned convenience store that was but a few yards away from the safe room. A quick trek across the alley leading to the rear entrance loading area, and within was a small trap door that was covered by a fallen storage shelf. There was plenty of bottled water and dried food in the hidden cellar to last both of them for months._

_Except Eris had developed a voracious appetite._

_Bill never remembered her being so famished, not to mention so unfastidious. While stationed at Echo Rho Tau, Eris was introduced to a variety of foods, though she still had a penchant for honey. However, honey wasn't to be found among the hidden stock pile of food. Yet within a week of finding it, Eris had devoured nearly half of the food, save the water which Bill carefully rationed between the two of them. The starving siren always made sure her lover had his fill first, though many times the war vet gave up most of his share for her anyway. She never seemed to gain an ounce, yet she could put the food away like she'd been denied sustenance for weeks._

_It didn't make sense, but then neither did the twin huge humps that were growing ever larger on her back._

_Her sudden back spasms were of great concern as well. They came more frequently as the days progressed, seeming to worsen during the night, but could be just as crippling during the day. Bill was grateful the stockpile of hidden supplies was close by. He was in no condition to handle the remaining special infected who still prowled the abandoned town, but he figured Eris would have no trouble defending the both of them. However, when one of her back spasms suddenly took her right off her feet and dropping all the supplies she'd been carrying, the war vet could barely get her to limp back to the safe house. In his current state, having Eris lean on him was hard enough. Carrying her was out of the question._

"_Iiii'm fiiiinee..." Eris started to say as Bill barred the safe room door._

"_Horse... shit," Bill gasped. "Turn around sweetheart, lets get a good look."_

_Eris reluctantly turned her back. Bill walked her over to one of the walls, having her bend over a little as he pulled her tattered dress down to her waist._

_The war vet swallowed hard. They looked bad enough with her clothes covering them, but bared, they looked like they were about to burst. The two humps jutted from her shoulder blades, nearly touching over her spine and extending and halfway down her back . They were hot to the touch, and Eris groaned when Bill gently ran his fingers over them._

_"Christ I don't know what this is," Bill said._

"_Iii''m fiiinnee Biillll," Eris insisted._

_The war vet let it go for now. There wasn't anything he could do at the moment anyway._

_Later that night, it all came to a boil._

_Eris woke up screaming, startling the war vet from an already rough sleep. The moonlight shining through the safe room door was just enough for the war vet to see his lover on all fours, her hands clawing and scratching at the concrete floor, desperately trying to grab for something as a brace. The humps on her back were bleeding, as though whatever was inside was about to erupt._

"_Eris!" Bill cried._

_But the gray goddess didn't hear him. She staggered to her feet and ran for the door, but instead of opening it, she grabbed onto the steel bars that made the makeshift window. Bracing herself, she screamed out the door as the pain lit up like a molotov fire. The cries of the infected horde answered her call, and within moments several of them were clambering at the door, though none of them even focused on her. Instead they reached for the wounded war vet, but he was well out of reach._

_And then it happened._

_The sound of skin tearing was heard for only a second, then Eris shrieked in pain. So loud that Bill staggered back, and the zombies who were right up front simply collapsed from brain hemorrhaging. When Bill's vision stopped shaking, he beheld an incredible sight._

_Wet, and covered in blood, was a pair of black wings jutting from Eris' back. Only about three feet long on each side, they flapped like that of a baby bird. Eris' legs were shaking as she let go of the bars and turned to her lover. Bill noticed the bars were actually bent from her grip._

"_Biiiiilll.. Iii..." _

_And with that, Eris passed out, nearly falling onto her new appendages, but Bill was quick to catch her._

. 

* * *

.

"Wow... that sounds worse than childbirth," Zoey said, subconsciously letting go of Louis.

"So they weren't always that large?" A random R.E.S.C.U.E soldier asked, staring at the gray goddess.

"Nope. I can vouch for that," said Sergeant Powers.

"They grew constantly. And the new wings explained why Eris was so hungry," Bill said. "But our supplies were running out, and if we didn't get out of Rayford we'd be finished, but I was still too injured to do much of anything. The radio Dr. Allan gave me still worked, but the batteries were dead. The following morning Eris felt much better, so we both went on a little excursion to find some batteries. We ended up searching some of the boarded up homes and grabbing the batteries from TV remotes. I had to tape several of them together and use some excess wire to link them to the radio.

"I should start calling you Matlock, old man," Francis said with a smirk.

Bill ignored him. "Got the radio to work, but just barely. I didn't think Dr. Allan or Alexis even heard me, the batteries were all weak and died out within minutes, but about a week later, Sergeant Powers and his squad had landed and were taking down every last infected out there." The war vet nodded at the burly sergeant, who returned the acknowledgment. A simple thanks between two soldiers.

"Primary orders were to secure th' town," Powers said. "Luck that we found you two. Dr. Allan 'ad only a hunch to run with."

"Sergeant!" Said another soldier who raced to the group. "Refueling is complete!"

"Alright ladies, last flight's leavin' so form up!" Powers barked. The town soldiers dispersed, while the elite R.E.S.C.U.E squad filed onto the chopper, leaving the burly sergeant and the survivors to take the rear.

"So now what?" Zoey asked.

"Weeerree goooiiinngg hoooomee," Eris sang happily, her amber eyes glowing like the late afternoon sun.

. 

* * *

.

_**Further Disclaimer: Didn't want to spoil it at the beginning, but certain lyrics shared between Bill and Eris are property of Seether and Amy Lee, their song, "Broken" is NOT my creation.**_

A/N: I realize a lot of this chapter probably wasn't necessary (like explaining in detail how Eris' wings grew), but I felt like it would be lazy of me to summarize those parts and not explain the details of those more intense moments. As always, review and comment please! And no it's not over yet. ;-)

_One other note, I found an original music composition on newgrounds . com, a website that is dedicated to Adobe Flash movies, games, and music. The song is called "Lost in Moonlight." It has no words but is very beautiful and I felt would've been the perfect "theme music" for the aftermath scene in the chapter, "The Sacrifice: Prelude To Rayford (Part 2)" Specifically, the scene where Bill is holding Eris and reciting the prayers for Xavier and Heather's sacrifice, and the survivors' tragic departure as Bill carries Eris to the train. If Eris had been conscious, I imagine she would've sounded like the woman in this song. Yeah that chapter was a while ago I know, but the song is only a couple minutes long and very moving, so I'm sharing it. :-) I do not take credit for this song of course, all that can be found on the newgrounds web site._

_Www . Newgrounds . Com / audio / listen / 441778_


	22. The Passing Wedding prt1

**Legal Disclaimer: Valve owns Left 4 Dead and its general plot, along with the characters Bill, Zoey, Louis, Francis, Rochelle, Coach, Ellis, Nick, hunter, smoker, boomer, tank, witch, jockey, spitter, and charger. Tripewire owns Sergeant Powers in name only. His back story and general awesomeness belongs to me. I, xmodius, own everything not mentioned above or that cannot be legally claimed by Valve or Tripwire. That goes double for Eris and the siren concept character. She's MINE! Well technically she's Bill's, but she's my twisted brainchild!**

.

_Mature Content Warning: This story contains violence and-_

_Perverse and excitable readers: "Will he mention sex? Will there BE sex? Oh please !"_

_Xmodius: "Not yet."_

_Sounds of groaning and death threats fills cyberspace._

_Xmodius: "But it's coming... I promise!"_

_Frustrated pervert readers: "At least something's coming. Because we haven't in for frickin' ever!"_

_Xmodius: "Ah keep your pants/skirts on."_

_Grumpy pervert readers: "Not a problem."_

Author's Notes: Yeah I keep saying we're wrapping up, and we are, at least as far as there won't be any more major plot twists. Part of why this chapter is so long is I had originally planned to incorporate the events from last chapter into this one as flashbacks. After a bit of back-and-forth with myself, I decided this chapter would've been entirely too long, so I split it up. Next chapter will likely be just as long if not more so, though hopefully won't take as long as it did to write this one.

Also I would like to give a shout out to HalfJaw101 (Volturon on deviantArt . Com) who drew yet another picture of my gray goddess Eris, in all her glory. I encourage you to have a look on her page, or you can go through my deviantArt page (xmodius) and check my favorites. Every L4D drawing she's done is part of my favorites. :-D Have a look, and leave her some comments!

Enjoy the story and review!

..

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Chapter 21 – The Passing Wedding (Part 1)

.

..

Bill's heart raced, his temples throbbed, and his hands shook as he looked around the town of Rayford. He was more nervous in the last hour than every heart pounding moment in his battle with the hordes of mutated rabies zombies.

A hand fell on his shoulder and the old war vet nearly jumped out of his skin.

"Hey take it easy, everything will be okay," a calm and familiar voice said. Two off-duty soldiers stopped to stare at the startled war vet and his companion.

"Cold feet," one of them mumbled.

Another scowled after taking a sip of his drink, "Can't believe he's going to marry a—OOF!" The soldier was cut off as his buddy slapped him rather hard on the back, a kind yet firm way of shutting him up.

"A great gal, worthy of Colonel Overbeck. I couldn't agree with you more." The first soldier said, faux smiling at his buddy who was still coughing and catching his breath. The first soldier shot Bill an apologetic look and a fully deserved salute, but the old vet hadn't noticed.

Louis simply glared back at both of them until they continued on their way. He shook his head in disappointment; no respect for elders these days. He expected to see Bill sporting a scowl, but the war vet had a blank face.

"Bill? You alright?" Louis asked, tapping the vet's shoulder again. He looked like he'd seen a ghost.

"Yeah, I guess. Maybe it is just cold feet."

"You're kidding right? You two are married in every sense of the word already. Far as I'm concerned this is just symbolic. You don't have cold feet, you're just a little nervous, that's all."

"Thanks Louis. It's just… I'm too old for feeling nervous." Bill sighed, running a hand over his face and shortened beard. He remembered how bushy it was when he and his comrades were all fighting to stay alive, but one didn't exactly find time to shave or even shower while on the run. He tugged at the fabric of his Dress Blues as though he'd put them on for the fist time. He still couldn't believe his friends were able to find fitting tuxedos, or that the army was able to find a set of dress blues to fit him, along with nearly every campaign ribbon and medal the old soldier acquired over his years in military service. The United States was still recovering from the plague of the mutated rabies virus; simple things like nice articles of clothing were rather hard to come by.

"You're never too old to do this," Louis said, gently squeezing Bill's shoulder before patting him once on the back. "You can be too young, but never too old."

Bill chuckled, the young systems analyst was always the more optimistic one in their group. It was rather refreshing.

"So… where's Francis? I haven't seen him since the bachelor party last night," Bill asked, remembering the night before.

Louis laughed. "I think he still has a hangover. Remember when him and Nick started arguing about which was better, hard rock or disco?"

Bill chuckled. "How could I forget? You'd think Nick insulted Francis' mother when he said disco rules."

"Yeah and then Francis said only a hard core rock fan could hold his liquor, not like some disco-lovin' candy-ass in a white leisure suit." Louis said, laughing harder.

"Yeah that's about the time I walked out. I guess they decided right then and there who could hold their liquor better?"

"Yup. And when Ellis went into yet another story about his buddy Keith, both of them started throwin' it back like it was the last day on earth. Hell, _I _wanted to start drinking." Louis sighed shaking his head. "In a way I can't blame them."

"Ah come on Louis. Ellis isn't _that _bad. He's a good kid and he's got a lot to share."

"No no, not Ellis. I like him. He's got a real positive attitude, even if he does ramble," Louis said. "I meant the whole 'drinking like there's no tomorrow' bit. I never thought I'd see this day either."

"What, an old man like me about to take 'the plunge'?" Bill asked with a lopsided smile.

"Well that and the fact that we're here talking without rifles in our hands. We're wearing clothes that aren't several days old. We're relaxed…"

"Speak for yourself, Louis," Bill said dryly.

"Okay okay. Relaxed as far as not worrying about being flattened by a charging tank, hung from the gallows by a smoker's tongue, pounced and mauled by a hunter, or seeing a mob of crazed infected bum rush us, you know what I mean." Louis said, shaking his head.

"Yeah… yeah I do," Bill said absently, reaching for a pack of cigarettes that was no longer there. His fingers fumbled in his jacket for a moment before he remembered. He'd quit smoking since he and his comrades had escaped the zombie apocalypse, but whenever he was worried or nervous he still found himself reaching for the pack of "comfort" he used to keep tucked away. Of all things, Bill never thought he'd quit smoking. If he could survive thousands of former humans hell bent on tearing him to pieces, surely cigarettes couldn't kill him.

But he knew the real reason why he'd quit, and that reason was likely getting dressed right now, preparing to walk down the aisle. The thought of his beloved putting on a beautiful wedding gown made his heart flutter, which only amplified his pre-wedding anxiety. He hated this worrying feeling. The old soldier had been worrying a lot lately, which of itself was ironic given the state of affairs...

It had been over a year since the war against mutated rabies was "won," but with more casualties than any other war in history. Now the United States was dealing with the aftermath, though far from returning to the state prior to the epidemic. Thankfully the disease never made it out of the country, the speed of symptoms showing and the rate of infection were fast enough that CEDA ordered all airports shut down.

Once the U.S. had escaped total annihilation from the plague of rage-filled death, a counter-strike was initiated. Military, doctors, and scientists from the U.S. and the U.K. gathered at Echo Rho Tau to assist Dr. Allan, who'd actually collapsed from exhaustion one night trying to perfect his own version of an MR-1 vaccine. General Raleigh had taken over Tyre's position at Echo Rho Tau, though he was primarily a figurehead since the President himself had promoted Dr. Allan and made him chief researcher and unofficial head of the hidden research facility. Luckily General Raleigh and Dr. Allan had the same goals and ideas in mind, so it was almost as though nothing had changed. Together they formed a plan to reclaim the United States, known as Project Halcyone.

The first order of the project was to develop a cure for MR-1. Fortunately Dr. Allan had already made great progress on his own, though the cure had to be tailored based on the subject's blood type, and that of itself made it cumbersome and costly. With extra minds and medical assistance, the first "universal" version was completed: Iremía 1.0, the phonetic name of Ηρεμία, the Greek word for tranquility.

The cure destroyed the virus and assisted the immune system in forming antibodies to keep reinfection from ever occurring. It was a vast improvement over Dr. Allan's own initial cure which was only 33% successful and did not vaccinate the patient against reinfection. A version of Iremía that could be mass produced and spread over the country via crop dusters was just a pipe dream at this stage. There would be no easy way to "sweep" the infection aside; portions of the country that were still infested would only be regained through ground-pounding and hard combat.

Unfortunately Iremía 1.0, was not without its flaws. It had only a 50% success rate for the common zombies. The infected as a whole were already unstable due to the virus, and the "coin flip" cure was paired with a very painful and violent death if it failed; most often the subject's heart exploded. Even those who were cured were not returned completely to normal. The MR-1 virus suppressed and often blanketed nearly all higher-level memories of its victims. Iremía 1.0 could not remove this memory block; only time and chance would grant the infected the memories of even a part of their former lives. Those who survived the cure were placed in a classification based on their level of retained memory:

Class 3 patients could barely remember anything, including the ability to speak, and on rare cases the ability to understand spoken language. Simple things like eating with utensils or dressing ones self were challenges for these patients. About 15% of the cured fell into this class. Fortunately cognitive faculties could be restored with enough practice. The simple acts of walking, talking, eating, bathing,reading, writing, listening, and speaking were all "relearned" at a rapid rate when the cured were exposed to the interactions of the immune, comparable to the way a child could pick up a foreign language better than an adult if completely immersed in a foreign country. Nearly all patients in this class eventually graduated to the second class.

Class 2 patients had partial memory loss. They had little difficulty speaking and understanding spoken language, and had no trouble with other basic faculties. However, they suffered from personal amnesia. Sometimes this amnesia could be cured when a trigger was introduced, such as seeing a drivers license or other ID found on them at the time. The majority of patients were members of this class.

Class 1 patients retained nearly all of their higher level memories. They could speak, read, write, and remember a number of social and cultural aspects of their lives. Some were even fortunate enough to remember a particular skill set or job they held in their former lives. Less than 5% fell into this category. While one might be considered lucky to fall into this group, it was also the group with the highest number of psychosomatic cases. Remembering the gruesome fates of everyone they'd loved and lost caused intense depression and often suicide. About half of all patients in class 1 lasted more than a couple weeks before ending their lives. A very disheartening prospect, but the medical doctors and their staff refused to give up.

Unfortunately the physical mutations such as eye and skin color, unless altered through surgery, remained as well. This was especially the case in the Special Infected...

A claw tapped the old war vet on the shoulder, causing him to turn around in surprise.

"'Scuse us Colonel Overbeck," a rough-sounding voice said.

Bill and Louis stepped aside as a pair of hunters passed by with wiring slung over their backs, headed to the band stand behind the gazebo where a number of tarps were laid over what Bill suspected was speakers or other acoustic electronics. The hunters wore scavenged civilian clothes, most often loose fitting sweat pants with pull overs or something hooded to cover the eyes. Failing that, they wore sunglasses or a ball cap to shield them from the sun. It was once believed that hunters were blind, but it was discovered their eyes functioned quite well, particularly at night. Their eyes were easily irritated by daylight, hence why they were often shrouded.

Most noticeable was the bright orange duct tape wrapped around their arms and calves to signify they weren't typical town inhabitants.

"Odd not seeing them prowling around," Louis said.

Bill nodded. Never in a million years did the war vet ever see the day he would watch a hunter, or any other special infected for that matter, walk and talk like an ordinary human being.

Yes, the Rehabilitated Special Infected, or RSI, was one of Dr. Allan's most remarkable accomplishments yet.

The RSI were the product of Project Neo Zoi, which was the efforts of Dr. Allan's research to give a second chance to the special infected, an idea criticized and shunned by many of his peers. Iremía 1.0, while proving moderately effective on the common infected, had ill effects on the Special Infected. Every captured S.I. who'd been treated with Iremía 1.0 died almost immediately, and the few that survived the initial cure lived only a few days while their bodies rapidly atrophied before they finally passed. It was discovered that the special infected were mutated to the point of depending on MR-1, and without the virus present in their systems they went into shock. The project was nearly abandoned, until a few days after R.E.S.C.U.E. had completed another mission to recover a fallen military installation.

On that day, quite by accident, everything changed.

.

* * *

.

"_You want us to come down to the lab for Eris' blood work?" Bill asked, over his comm radio. _

"_If you would please," Dr. Allan said on the other end, a mixture of voices and shuffling in the background. "It's very hectic down here and I won't be able to get up to the surface today, but I really want to find out how Eris' grew those wings and I need more blood work."_

"_Why not have Alexis draw it for you?" Bill asked._

"_I'm assisting Dr. Allan," said a slightly softer voice in the background on the radio. "And trust me, it's pretty 'busy' down here."_

_Bill didn't like the idea. He knew how much the underground lab put Eris on edge. Given her past life under Tyre's terrible experiments, hospitals and laboratories caused the siren discomfort._

"_Iiii'lll goooo, if Biiilll comes with meee," Eris said with a smile, suggesting that either of them were considering separating. The two spent nearly all their time together, and while most couples would've been sick of each other without a little time apart, Bill and Eris never tired of each others' company._

"_Great. See you in twenty minutes." Dr. Allan said._

_The pair made their way across the base from the civilian quarters on one end to the medical and research buildings on the opposite end. After the disaster with Tyre, Dr. Allan had all civilians relocated on the opposite end of the base, just in case._

_The couple entered a medical building, crossed the lobby and boarded a large metal elevator at the far end which required a pass code. As the elevator came to a stop at the lowest level, the sounds of crying and screaming could be heard on the other side of the door. _

_Bill held the 'Close Door' button, then quickly drew his sidearm and flicked off the safety. Eris' amber eyes narrowed as she peered through the closed doors with her inner sight._

"_See anything?" Bill asked, all business with his gun pointed upward aside his head._

"_Twoooo infeeccted," Eris replied, one hand squeezing Bill's shoulder. "In the coorrnerr."_

_The doors opened, and Bill stared down the sight of his 9mm. Several doctors in the room froze, some placing their hands in the air, while others shouted in surprise. The room was loaded with tables and lab equipment, though in the closest right corner was a ceiling-high, ten foot square cage._

"_It's alright everyone," came a familiar voice from the back of the room. Dr. Allan pushed his way through the startled crowd. "Back to work please." The staff warily resumed their tasks, maintaining a healthy distance from the inhabited cage._

_Two witches, naked as the day they were born, were huddled and crying in the corner of the cage against the walls, as far away from the humans as possible. One staff member passed too close and the witches began growling and shrieking, though they didn't move to attack. Bill returned his weapon to the holster as he and Eris looked at the captive pair._

"_Sorry." Dr. Allan said. "I'm still working on developing a cure for the special infected, though so far it's been one failure after another. Sergeant Powers found these two witches shortly after finding you. He said they seemed different, and I figured it was worth a shot."_

"_They sure don't look typical." Bill said. For one thing they looked healthy, compared to being paper thin and malnourished._

"_Sergeant Powers discovered them in the food storage area of an abandoned military base. He noticed a number of stark differences between them and other witches encountered. Their physical appearance for starters." Dr. Allan said._

_Bill nodded. Witches had gray skin with sunken eyes and a gaunt appearance. These two looked nothing like a typical witch, and were quite the contrast to each other. One had skin as white as fallen snow, with glowing crimson eyes and a mane of black hair, while the other had skin as black as coal dust, with bright goldenrod eyes and shimmering silver locks. Interestingly their facial features, which suggested both women were Caucasian, were the only thing the two witches seemed to share._

"_Were they found together like that?" Bill asked._

_Dr. Allan nodded. "According to Sergeant Powers, he found them huddled together as though trying to comfort one another. As you know, this is completely contrary to field observations; witches are known for being solitary creatures and abhorring close contact. Sergeant Powers claims that when he approached, they growled but backed away instead of challenging him, another trait completely opposite of the MR-1 witch."_

_Eris' heart went out to the two sobbing women. Their fear and anxiety reminded her of when she was alone, crying and frightened. But unlike them, she had no one to share in her misery._

"_The sergeant's decision to capture them had been a bold move, but not a foolish one. I was hoping to find a new variant of MR-1 to explain their appearance and behavior. While not ordinary witches by field standards, they're still frightened easily and aggressively defensive when approached by anyone, which has made it impossible to run tests." Dr. Allan sighed, "I'm afraid the results for curing them will be the same as they've always been."_

_Bill nodded grimly. From what he'd heard, the "result" from trying to cure the special infected was a rather painful death. The way those witches were bawling, one would think they already knew what was in store for them._

"_Plleeasseee dooon't crryyy." Eris sang. The sobbing captives abruptly stopped crying and focused on the two new faces in the room._

_A pin could have dropped._

_Everyone froze as the pair slowly rose to their feet and shuffled forward. Bill and Eris approached the cage, but the witches growled and retreated a little, still very nervous. The siren began humming a soothing tone to dispel the tension in the air, and the infected criers drew closer, their curiosity piqued._

"_What the hell..." someone whispered in disbelief, before another voice shushed them._

_The witches had overcome their apprehension and were reaching through the bars to interact with the two visitors. The white witch placed her palm against Bill's cheek, stroking his trimmed and shortened beard with a child-like fascination. The war vet couldn't help but smile himself as he remembered his amber-eyed goddess doing the exact same thing when they'd first "met." The black witch ran her hands over Eris' smooth feathers, very interested in the midnight wings adorning the gray woman with the mesmerizing voice._

"_It's as though they sense something different about the two of you," Dr. Allan said, scratching his head in puzzlement. The infected knew enough not to attack each other, but were always set off by the uninfected. Eris wasn't technically infected, but because MR-1 had merged with her DNA, she probably appeared as such. Bill on the other hand was immune, so it made no sense why the two witches saw him any different from the other uninfected people in the room._

_And in that moment, Dr. Allan was struck with a brilliant idea._

"_Bill. If you don't mind, I'd like some more blood work from you as well," Dr. Allan said._

"_Sure thing doc," Bill said, not turning his eyes away from the snow-white witch, her crimson eyes wide with curiosity as she stared at him. She was smiling as the war vet held her clawed hand and stroked it, maintaining the sense of calm that now filled the room while Eris hummed. He stole a quick glance in his lover's direction. The coal-black witch gently ran the back of her claws over the siren's wing, smiling delightedly. _

"_Sounds like you have a plan," the war vet said over his shoulder._

"_Indeed I do." Dr. Allan said, delight abound in his otherwise tired voice._

_._

* * *

_._

Thanks to the participation of the aged war vet and his future bride, the two witches were the first successes of project Neo Zoi, and the plan was set in motion to capture more special infected to see if they could be brought back to the side of humanity. The new cure for the special infected had an astounding 95% success rate. As more special infected were captured and cured, it got to the point where Echo Rho Tau couldn't house all of them. The base technically didn't exist, and thus was small by comparison to a typical army base. It barely had enough room to accommodate the mass of doctors, scientists, and support staff who were brought in to assist with the research.

And so it was decided to make Rayford the "halfway house" for the growing numbers of RSI. They were sent here to live and work under a sort of "probation" to see if they could return to some semblance of a normal life with the rest of the human population. Most of them were enlisted in the army, their unique attributes made supply runs much easier. However there were civilian RSI who no longer had the stomach for combat. Several of them were reconstructing the town buildings or working on clean up, but others had a fondness for more creative tasks. Bill had even seen a few RSI working as catering staff for his wedding. He heard a female boomer with an enormous talent for baking and organizing, was the head chef and supervisor of the catering staff.

Yes, the current situation was surreal to say the least. Still, even inside the military quarantined town of Rayford, Bill worried about the woman who would soon become his bride. While not in any immediate danger, the two of then hadn't been separated since their encounter with Tyre.

"Bill? Hey… Bill!" Louis said, snapping his fingers. The war vet shook his head, blinking his eyes.

"Sorry… I… just kinda had an "old-timers" moment." Bill said with a weak smile.

"Don't you mean Alzheimer's?" Louis asked.

"No. Alzheimer's is when you forget who you are, forget who friends are, or space out and lose track of time, like a memory black-out. 'Old-timers' is where you know you remember you've forgotten something at least two or three times, and you know you're gonna forget the same thing again." Bill said with a grin.

Louis laughed hard. "Speaking of forgetting, I'm going to see if Francis forgot there's a wedding today. But what did you forget and are gonna keep forgetting?" The systems analyst asked, stepping aside as a group of RSI catering staff hurried by.

"That my future wife is more than capable of taking care of herself, of being brave in the face of uncertainty, and more than able to handle her own affairs with something as simple as getting ready for a wedding."

.

* * *

.

"I can't find my shooooes!" The pretty bride shouted to no one as she looked around frantically for her white heels. Even though she could just as easily walk out there barefooted since no one would see beneath her billowing white gown, she was still searching about frantically for the elusive pair of pumps. They'd been something of an early wedding gift from the most unlikely of people. She remembered when Francis gave them to her, sloppily wrapped with a bit of red ribbon in their shoebox.

"How could I looossse a pair of shoes in a tent no bigger than a saaaafe house?" She sighed, now frustrated that she was drawing out her words in melody; something that happened more frequently when she was nervous. She'd worked so hard to sound somewhat normal when speaking, even though not a single person, least of all Bill, objected to her singing some of her words.

In her haste to check under another table she stubbed her toe, and a stream of melodious swearing erupted from her pretty gray lips. She suddenly slapped both hands over her mouth, mortified that someone had heard her outburst, though the changing tent was a well away from the main area that housed the gazebo, down a set of concrete stairs and to the right of a large, enclosed magnolia tree. The entire wedding was being held outside since there wasn't a decent building in the town that wasn't already housing soldiers or civilians.

"Hey hey it's okay!" A petite young woman said to the panicking bride as she quickly entered the tent. She wore a light pink dress, beautiful yet simple, the way a bridesmaid dress should be. "Sorry for not knocking, kinda hard to do that on a tent flap," she said as she approached the makeup table. Reaching down for a moment, she stood up and turned around with the missing pair of shoes.

"Ta da!" The blue-eyed girl said with a smile.

The bride breathed a sigh of relief behind her white veil as she took the shoes. "Thanks Zoooey. I still have a tough time remembering where Iiii've placed things. Francis would've never let meeee hear the end of it if I lost those shoooes."

The auburn haired bride's maid chuckled as she assisted the bride in slipping the elegant heels on. "You'd have probably had an easier time finding them if your veil wasn't down."

The beauty in white sighed, having completely forgotten about her veil. She lifted it over her head with shaky hands. God help her, she was so nervous.

"Iiii'm sooorrry..." she said woefully, her voice drawing out more with her tension.

"Hey don't worry about it. I know Francis, and believe me he'd forgive you if you were a little forgetful on the most important day of your life. Granted he'd probably pout and never let you forget it, but he'd still forgive you," her bridesmaid said.

Eris lower lip trembled, the pressure of the event bringing her to the bursting point.

"Hey, are you okay?" Zoey asked.

"It's just... soooo muuuch," Eris started, choking up again.

The gray goddess began to cry, hiding her face in her white-laced gloved hands. She mentally chastised herself for feeling so upset. Since the outbreak, she'd been through a literal hell on earth, survived a trial by fire, and emerged from the flames as one of the strongest women alive.

However, today she was more nervous than she'd ever been. She was going to profess her love in front of dozens of strangers who were unfairly biased against this marriage. She wanted a more private wedding with close friends and family, but General Raleigh insisted on a more formal event, in part because Bill deserved it for everything he'd done in his military career, but also because it would show everyone that life's important miracles, such as the love between two people, still existed in this post apocalyptic nightmare.

Still, the bride to be was wound up like a clock spring with all the soldiers and rescued/cured civilians only twisting it tighter. Eris knew that a number of them, while holding great respect for her fiancé Colonel William Overbeck, looked upon _her _and the RSI with disdain, contempt, and judgment.

The atmosphere at the wedding was going to be so thick, she could slice it with her claws if she still had them. And it was smothering her.

Two hands fell on her shoulders from behind, rubbing softly and kneading her smooth gray skin. Eris sniffled as her auburn-haired bridesmaid worked her magic, releasing some of the pent up tension of what was yet to come.

"Just relax," Zoey said soothingly as she unzipped Eris' wedding dress from the back.

The gray goddess leaned forward, giving in to the comforting massage. The bridesmaid ran her fingers down the length of her friend's exposed spine, fingertips gently running over each bump before reaching the lower back. She balled her fists and rolled her knuckles over Eris' back as she worked her way back up, stopping at the neck. Eris was beginning to hum softly, the massage working its wonders.

It was then that Zoey's hands traveled somewhere else on the gray goddess' body. A place they hadn't journeyed to in a long time, but she felt was deserving given the circumstances. Eris stiffened for a moment but relaxed, her stress melting away like an ice sculpture beneath the Georgia sun. The winged siren cooed happily, fluttering under the gentle petting.

"Zoooeyy..." she sang dreamily. "Thaank yooou."

"Anything for the people I love," she whispered, continuing her gentle caress along the tops of the siren's wings, gently kneading the muscles that jutted out from her back like a second pair of arms. Before long, Eris' humming turned to soft singing, her beautiful habit when she was very happy or very relaxed.

Zoey let Eris' melody guide her hands, the tune relaxing her into a trance as she continued her gentle petting along the outermost edges of the wings. Her friend deserved to be stress-free on what would be the one of the happiest days of her life. The college girl remembered when she first discovered, quite by accident, this new method to soothe her. It was the same day she, Louis, and Francis were rescued. One of the happiest days of her life, for it was also the day Bill and Eris were no longer mourned ghosts or distant memories.

They day they were all finally reunited...

"Zooooey?" Eris asked, gently fluttering her wings. The college girl was still stroking the siren's midnight feathers, though clumsily now as she stared off into space.

"Ah... I'm sorry," Zoey said, shaking her head, zipping up Eris' bridal gown.

"Are you okaaaay?" Eris asked as she turned around, lightly flapping her wings once then folding them behind her back.

"Just remembering," she said, looking around absently.

"Happier tiiiimes?"

"One of the happiest. Like today will be for you."

"I want it to beee, but I... I knoooow what the soldiers think of this... of me and Biiiill." Eris sang, more tears running down her face.

"Don't forget," Zoey whispered, gently dabbing Eris' cheeks with a tissue. "There are those of us who see this wedding for what it really is: The ceremonial and symbolic act of you and Bill formally proclaiming your undying devotion and everlasting love to each other. You can face life's challenges with ease, because you'll face them together."

The bride smiled as her bridesmaid dried her cheeks. "Biiiil and I can face aaaanythiiiing, with our friends and..."

"Matron, are you alright?" Came a small voice from the tent flap.

Zoey and Eris turned to a jockey crouched and twitching by the entrance, who quickly turned away and covered his eyes. While the bride wasn't in a state of undress, Zoey realized he was trying to show his respect by not staring.

Eris felt a smile spread across her face. "I'm fiiine. Thaank yooou Jacob. And plleeasse, just call me Errris."

"I... I'm sorry matro-... Eris," the jockey said, momentarily entranced by her voice. He caught himself, shooting a bashful smile at the two women, an involuntary snicker escaping his wide lips before he hurried off. A little creepy to Zoey, but then she was a bit biased in that respect.

Zoey watched the former infected scurry away. "You were saying? You can face anything with your friends...?"

Eris sighed, finishing her sentence, "And our faaamilly."

Zoey started to giggle. "Yeah '_mom.' _You're not even married yet and you wind up with kids. How the hell did that happen?"

Eris couldn't help but giggle herself, lace-gloved fingertips covering her lips. "I remember when Dr. Allaaan told Bill he was going to be a daaaddy. He turned whiiiite as my wedding dress."

"I wish I could've been there to see that personally. From what you've told me, the old stud looked like he was going to keel over right then and there!" Zoey said, laughing harder now.

.

* * *

.

"_You wanted to see us, Dr. Allan?" Bill asked as he and his love entered the doctor's office. Given everything that had changed over the last several months, the doctor's office was the only thing that was excluded. Still small, still cramped with papers, and still housing the same tired doctor reading over his files, working hard at reviving humanity._

"_Wiilll this take looong?" Eris asked. "Biill was reading "The Odysseeey" to Pandia and Selene, and we left off at a goood paart."_

_Bill smiled. "I love those names. Fitting for a pair of witches that are as similar yet opposite as those two are."_

_Eris shot a scolding glance at her lover._

"_Aw come on sweetheart. I know using a field name to refer to the RSI is hurtful to a lot of them, but Pandia and Selene actually _like _being called witches. It's as if they're taking the name back." Bill chuckled. "I swear, kids these days..."_

"_I'm glaad you liiked the naaames I piicked oout." Eris smirked, changing the subject. The siren had taken an interest in Greek mythology, and was very eager to read all about the various gods and goddesses once she found out she was named after one. She was surprised when she found she was named after the goddess of chaos and discord. The peaceful siren was nothing like the trouble-making Olympian, although she thought it an interesting coincidence that she was in love with a soldier since the goddess Eris was said to accompany Ares, the god of war._

_When the black and white witches were cured, they were fortunate to recall a lot of basic memories, with the exception of their names. Eris noticed how the two "sisters" were very different, yet completed each other, like the night and the day. Thus, she took it upon herself to name them Pandia and Selene, after the goddess of the sun and the goddess of the moon, respectively._

"_They've really taken a shining to the two of you; it's hard to believe it's been months since they were cured." Alexis said. "So many of the special infected look up to you both, but then again that's easy to understand why. I think its cute the way a lot of them call Eris their 'Matron'," the R.N. giggled._

"_And how Pandia and Selene call yoooou papa," the siren snickered to her love._

_The old vet laughed while scratching the back of his head. "The twins" had indeed latched on to both him and Eris since they were cured. They looked nothing alike, but were referred to as "the twins" because they were inseparable. And like twins, they loved both their "parents" but had picked their favorites. Pandia, the white witch, looked to Bill as a father figure, while Selene, the black witch, had all but completely bonded to Eris as a devout "momma's girl." _

"_They're barely of age to drink and they act like adults around others, but they still look at us the way kids see their mom and dad. It's adorable, but pretty exhausting at times." Bill said._

"_Yeees, but when I see the fascinatiooon in their eyes when I ssiiiing, or they way they haang on your every wooord when you read to them or retell one of your war stories..." Eris sighed happily, "...iiit's wooorth the looong hours. Even the ooother people whooo spend tiime with the other cured special infeeected, I knooow it warms their heaarts tooo." _

"_Yeah, they're worth the late nights," Alexis said, for she too along with several others had been hard at work helping the RSI return to society, and she too had become attached to a few, most recently a female smoker of Latin heritage who had just undergone surgery to remove a number of tumors on her face. As project Neo Zoi progressed, more and more special infected were captured and cured by Dr. Allan's genetic research. Bill and Eris took several of these RSI under their watch, but eventually it became too much for the pair. As a result, people were asked to "sponsor" an RSI. Though they were adults, the RSI were relearning like children, and thus were looked after and evaluated by their sponsor to monitor their progress and to guard against mental trauma as they adapted to their new lives. Since every sponsor signed up on their own accord without any incentive, they were all very willing to help the cured specials rejoin society. The RSI became very attached to their sponsors, much the way a child is to their parents in the formative years. This attachment lessened as they regained their cognition and established more of an identity for themselves, but there was always a lasting bond shared between the RSI and the sponsor._

"_Dr. Allan deserves nothing less than the Nobel Peace Prize for his work," Alexis said proudly. Bill and Eris nodded in agreement, all of them turning to the doctor._

_His nose was buried in a file._

_Alexis cleared her throat and tapped the doctor on the shoulder. "Dr. Allan. Bill and Eris, remember?"_

"_Huh? Oh yes. Please have a seat."_

_The two lovers looked around, there being stacks of papers everywhere but nothing as far as extra furniture._

"_Shall we sit on this stack of patient files, or on that stack of progress reports from the other doctors?" Bill asked._

_Alexis laughed, but the smart-ass remark shot completely over Dr. Allan's head._

"_Doctor, please stop trying to be ten people for at least five minutes," Alexis said, gently squeezing his shoulder. The olive-skinned man was barely in his late thirties, but was looking more and more like he could be pushing fifty given the stress and lack of sleep associated with his job. Though more help had arrived from the U.K. and the regrouped segments of the U.S. military, he still was one of the few doctors fully qualified to handle the genetic research aspect of combating MR-1. Only a handful of doctors transferred here were even half as qualified as him, and lately he found himself having to manage them with work they could handle as well as focus on his research. It was running him dry._

_But this was important, and his respect and gratitude for Bill and Eris demanded a portion of his undivided attention._

"_Yes," he said, dropping a clipboard with papers on his desk. "I'm sorry."_

"_No problem doc. What's going on?" Bill asked. "Please tell me you don't need anymore blood from Eris or myself." Since the two had been rescued, Dr. Allan was finally able to make strides in developing a cure for MR-1. However he asked for blood so often, Bill was beginning to feel like a shriveled raisin. As if his age wasn't bad enough at making him look wrinkled..._

_Dr. Allan laughed at that. "Not this time. We've done all we can to modify Iremía 1.0, so we won't need anymore blood from the immune. And of course we've nearly perfected the cure for the special infected. In fact that's what I wanted to talk to you both about," he said, stepping around his desk. "First off, I wanted thank you both for your help. Project Neo Zoi would never have worked without you two."_

"_You give us too much credit doc," Bill said. "You and Alexis and the other doctors here are the ones who've worked constantly to develop a cure."_

"_You two deserve more credit than you might think," Dr. Allan said. Bill cocked an eye at that, but the doctor continued. "When Sergeant Powers found the two of you holed up in that safe house in Rayford, I was so relieved you were both alive and well. And not just because of the research, though I'm very grateful that you've both been so patient with me in that respect," he finished, turning to the gray goddess._

"_Nooo prroobblleeem," Eris sang, giggling a little as Dr. Allan blushed. The dark-haired human often stumbled around expressing emotion._

"_The fact that you're able to give the special infected a second chance is just incredible," Bill added. "To be a part of their recovery is a great honor." _

_And indeed both Bill and Eris were as involved in the project as Dr. Allan. Since the treatment involved Bill and Eris' blood, and this blood could not be stored (it had to be extracted fresh from both of them), they were always by the bed-side when the special infected patient would awaken. The means for curing the special infected was a painful process, very similar to the way MR-1 had changed them in the first place. The S.I. went through flu-like symptoms, and eventually would become weak and hallucinate, before finally reaching a comatose state. Their hearts would stop for about a minute before starting up again. It was as though they were quite literally being reborn. To help ease their transition, Eris would sing to them through the entire process. Thus, the RSI would awaken to bright lights (that of the hospital room) and the sound of angelic singing. And the first two people they saw when they focused their "newborn" eyes, was Bill and Eris._

_As such, it created a very strong initial bond between the RSI and the two heroes. And it was how Eris acquired the title of "Matron" when one of the RSI had learned the meaning of the word and began referring to her as such, since she watched over nearly all of RSI in the beginning. The title caught on, and soon all the RSI were calling her "Matron" more so out of respect and devotion than definition of title._

"_Again, I owe you both a great deal of thanks for your help and your personal involvement. And that's what I wanted to talk to you about," Dr. Allan said, addressing the couple. "I understand the two of you want to have children some day."_

_Bill cleared his throat and Eris smiled dreamily. Both of them had talked about kids, and while Bill was old enough to be a grandpa, he never had children of his own before. Though he was beyond the typical age to be a father, he knew that with Eris' help he could handle raising a rug rat or two._

_Unfortunately, it was predicted that the probability of the two of them having children was less than 1/100th of a percent. Eris' modified DNA, while still very close to human, differed enough that fertilization by her human lover would be all but impossible._

_Still, they were trying. With gusto._

"_We do," Bill said finally. "But I understand its very unlikely."_

"_Well... what if I were to tell you that you're both parents?"_

_Alexis squealed and rushed forward to embrace the shocked gray angel. Out of reflex, Eris' wings folded around the ebony R.N. who was practically dancing as she hugged her. "I knew it! I just knew it!" She cried, squeezing Eris tightly before pulling away and holding the stunned gray goddess' "manicured" hands. "I just knew you two would conceive!"_

"_Iiii'm... pregnaaant?" Eris asked, her pretty lips pulling into a big smile, showing off her pearly whites. She couldn't believe it, but it didn't make her any less ecstatic._

"_Just a moment you two... " Dr. Allan started, though neither of the excited women heard him. He turned to the war vet next._

_Bill was pale as a ghost._

"_Ah... I... how?" The old vet stammered._

"_The thing is..." Dr. Allan started again before being cut off._

"_Do you really need _that_ explained?" Alexis asked Bill slyly, who was still doing a great impression of a deer in headlights._

"_Yeah.. I mean no, but..." Bill mumbled, turning to Eris._

_Eris was silent, staring entranced at her lover while running a hand over her tummy. His baby, _their _baby, now growing inside her womb._

"_Hold on! Hold on just a minute!" Dr. Allan about yelled. All eyes were on him again as an awkward silence filled the room. "I think there's a misunderstanding."_

"_But I thought yoou saaid I waas pregnaant," the gray goddess said in a quivering voice._

"_I didn't say you were pregnant." Dr. Allan said, nearly choking. Eris looked truly heartbroken. Bill, having gotten over the initial shock, now looked disappointed as well. "Ah... but you two are parents."_

"_Do you mean because we see Pandia and Selene as our daughters?" Bill asked. "Shoot doc, in that case of course we're parents, even if only adoptive."_

"_It's more than that."_

_Okay, I'm lost." Bill said, scratching his head._

"_It involves Project Neo Zoi." said the doctor. "As you know, Eris is a unique case, as she was infected with MR-1 but no longer has the communicable virus in her body. It became a part of her DNA upon rewriting it."_

"_Yeah I understand that," Bill said. "It's why we're having a hard time starting a family."_

_Dr. Allan continued, "The means for curing the special infected is to cause MR-1 to assimilate with their mutated DNA. In essence, the virus becomes a part of their genetic structure and is no longer a virus by clinical definition. It's why Eris could never infect anyone even if she tried. For example, a cat has drastically different DNA than a human, but if a human is scratched by a cat, they're not going to turn into one, or even acquire it's DNA."_

"_Then hooow do you explaaain theeese?" Eris asked, partially extending her wings. Bill and Alexis also shot a glance in the doctor's direction. He paused, sweat forming on his forehead. _

"_I haven't a clue." Dr. Allan said, defeated. He hated not knowing. Of everything he'd seen with MR-1, he still could not explain Eris' strange mutation which occurred shortly after her rescuing Bill. All he was certain about was a moment of great stress was involved in triggering the transformation. Whether this was from their battle with Tyre when she fell into a coma, or when she'd later awakened and saved her lover's life in Rayford, was uncertain._

"_Getting back on subject..." Bill sighed._

"_Right. As a virus, MR-1 is designed to procreate until it overruns the host body. A catalyst is necessary to stop the virus' procreation, followed by a genetic alteration to cause MR-1 to commence merging with the host DNA. Bill, your blood's immunity is that catalyst, while Eris' blood is the genetic alteration."_

_Alexis rubbed her chin in thought. Why was Dr. Allan stating in rather complicated terms what they already knew? He'd already told the two lovers of his initial discovery that their blood paired together was the means to cure the special infected. But what did this have to do with..._

_The R.N.'s chocolate brown eyes went wide as saucers._

"_I still don't think I fully understand where you're going with this," Bill said._

_Alexis interjected, practically stammering. "Bill... yours and Eris' DNA... they're integral parts of curing the S.I. Moreover, they become part of the S.I.'s DNA when the cure is successful. Therefore..._

_The old man felt his chest tighten as the two pieces of the puzzle finally fit together. "Bull frickin' horse shit..."_

"_That's right." Dr. Allan said, smiling. "You and Eris are related to every RSI here at Echo Rho Tau. By the laws of biology, all of them are your children!"_

"_Jesus H. Christ, what I wouldn't give for a cigarette right now..." Bill groaned, plopping down on a short stack of files._

_._

* * *

_._

"Biiiil looked like he was abooout to shit a gooold brick," Eris was laughing harder now. Zoey was in a fit of giggles as well; how she wished she'd seen the war vet's shocked expression in person.

Eris sighed as the memory faded, reality coming to the forefront once more. Right now, all she wanted was the comfort of her soon to be husband, but it was bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the wedding. She wanted so badly to be held by him right now, to feel his strong arms squeezing away her insecurities.

The bridesmaid gave her a delicate hug, trying not to crush the billowing wedding gown. "It's okay," she said as she held the bride's trembling gloved hands. "You look beautiful, and this is going to be the best day of your life."

"The best day of my life," the bride said with a sigh, "was the day Biiillll saved mine, by my saving his."

"Well… here's to today, and every day after, being the best days of _both_ your lives," the bridesmaid said with a smile and a quiver in her voice, one tear running down her face as she excused herself from the tent.

.

* * *

.

"Mmmm hmmm... Peach Cobblah," said a burly dark man in a tux that looked just a little too small for him as he slunk into one of the catering tents. Spanning its length across the center was a mass of folding tables with white cloths. On them sat numerous warming trays had been set out with dishes prepared for the reception. Sitting dead center was an artfully decorated wedding cake that nearly reached the tent roof. Quite a prize, but not one that would go unnoticed if a piece was missing from it. The heavyset survivor licked his chops as he spotted the freshly baked peach cobbler who's aroma had called to him from halfway across the park. A knife lay next to it, just tempting him.

"One lil slivah from the edge won't hurt nuttin," he whispered as he picked up the knife.

In a flash he felt a sting on his knuckles, causing him to drop the knife before he could cut into his prize.

"Ah know ah makes one helluva cobblah, but y'best keep yo hands to yoself if you wanna _keep_ dose hands attached to yo arms, sugah," said a southern sounding voice from out of nowhere.

Coach shook his fingers and hissed a little as he prepared to fire off a retort, but he lost his voice. Standing in front of him on the other side of the table was a generously rubenesque, dark-skinned woman in a chef's outfit, which fit her snugly in the right places. Her bared arms were covered in white dust, most likely flour. Her black hair was pulled back in a bun with a hair net over it, and on her pretty, albeit chunky face, was a motherly scowl. In one chubby hand she held a wooden spoon.

Maybe it was her occupation, but something about her tugged at Coach's heartstrings.

The large woman was about to shoo the overeager eater out of the tent, but the chunky dark man looked just adorable the way he'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

Coach put on his best smile. "Sorry. Jus can't help mahself when ah smell food dis good."

The woman behind the table smirked at him. She wasn't wet behind the ears like this thievin' greenhorn thought. "Sweet talk is fo' sellin', huney. An' ah ain't buyin."

"You wouldn't havta buy huney wit food that smells so sweet. Ah bet it tastes even bettah," Coach said, meeting her eyes. The large chef was as southern as Louisiana gator stew, and with as much bite.

His kind of woman.

"Ah guess you'll jus havta wait n find out, woncha sugah?" She said, a bit of a smile sneaking through.

"Say uh... if you're gonna be 'vailable aftah the ceremony, would you like to share a piece of weddin' cake... an' a dance?" Coach said.

"No."

The dark man looked like he was denied seconds at an all-you-can-eat buffet.

The former boomette laughed heartily, a bit of a gurgle coming out in her mirth. "I ain't sharin' cake, and I knows you wouldn't eithah. But... I'd be happy to sweep you 'round the flo like a church broom befo Sunday service."

Coach brightened up. "Well den... see you on dat flo." He said, excusing himself and heading back out.

The head chef shouted after him, "Now don go eatin' yourself inta a food coma off momma's cookin' ya hear? 'Cause ah kin dance all night!"

.

* * *

.

Three of the New Orleans survivors, dressed in formal attire, were gathered outside one of the large reconstructed buildings in Rayford, watching some of the RSI as they worked to secure banners and decorations along the outside of the higher floors for the wedding.

"Sure is something to see them in action," Rochelle said, watching a RSI huntress make an impossible jump from one balcony to another on a joining building. In the huntress' teeth was a the end of a roll of streamer. The leaper was going back and forth in a crisscross pattern, securing and spreading the colored decorative between the open space.

"I still don't like it," Nick said. "They were bad enough as mindless killers, but now they've got brains behind them."

"There hasn't been a single report of a 'misbehaved' RSI," Rochelle said. "And with every one of them required to have a sponsor, there'd be no way to hide ill intent. Try to have a little optimism, Nick."

"Optimism and realism don't dwell in the same house, sweetheart," Nick retorted.

Ellis didn't like to hear his friends argue, and decided to break it up with some lighthearted humor.

"Shoot Nick. Firs' time you're dressed appropriate fo' the situation," Ellis said.

"What's _that_ supposed to mean?" Nick asked. He wore a white tuxedo with a blue bow tie and matching cummerbund. It was a "tribute" of sorts to his old white suit which was mercifully burned since it was permanently stained from running through sewer shit water, dusty old basements, and destroyed buildings, all while blasting hundreds of zombies at point blank range.

"Well ya wore a suit to tear through zombies, so ah figured you'd wear a wife-beater an' shorts t' a formal event like this'un."

"You're one to talk about being dressed appropriate, overalls," Nick said to the country boy, who looked quite out of place in his black tux.

"Would you two stop trying to screw up such a great day?" Rochelle said, who looked beautiful in her light pink dress. She was flattered to have been asked to be a bridesmaid. When she found out that Eris was the one who saved her from being choked to death in Rayford, agreeing to be a bridesmaid was the least the young aspiring reporter could do. "And I think the tux suits you quite well, _overalls_." She finished, brushing some dust off Ellis' black jacket.

Nick rolled his eyes. "Hell I'm surprised he didn't shrink when he took a bath. I figured at least two inches of his height was dirt and crap."

"And ahm surprised you don' smell any better now than ya did when we wuz runnin through the sewers, blastin zombies," Eills retorted. "Got a real 'turd' on yer shoulder, doncha Nick?"

Nick laughed sarcastically and cast his eyes over the park area of Rayford, lingering on the reconstructed white gazebo. He shuddered as he remembered the witch who was "left at the altar" in that very spot. With no way to pass by without disturbing her, the four survivors drew straws to see who would put her down. Nick had been the lucky one that time. He'd crept up quietly, but the witch was facing them so there would be no way to get the drop on her. The con man could barely keep the auto shotgun from shaking in his hand when he pointed it into that hateful face with shimmering eyes and a murderous growl. He'd fumbled and the first shot only caught her in the chest instead of her head. And in that instant, when she screamed...

An ear piercing scream followed by someone else shouting "Look out!" snapped the con man from his memories. He whirled up, reflexively trying to draw a pistol that was no longer there.

The huntress shrieked as she missed of one of the outcroppings, her miscalculated jump sending her in a nose dive.

Straight for them.

"Ah got 'er! Ah got 'er!" Ellis shouted, looking up and scrambling back and forth as he tried to guess where the RSI would land. The huntress tried to stop her fall by grabbing onto a balcony, though she only managed to change her direction and flip herself on her back as she plummeted towards a store awning that covered the sidewalk. Good luck there at least. The awning wouldn't break her fall, but she might survive it. The fabric ripped and the huntress braced for impact.

But instead of slamming into pavement, she fell into something softer.

Ellis grunted as he staggered from the catch, nearly losing his balance. The RSI had grabbed onto his neck as he held her in a bridal carry. Her hood had fallen back, revealing sandy brown hair with bangs that hung over a pair of glowing green eyes. Her face was pale, though closer to flesh colored than the typical gray the infected turned.

"Ya okay?" he asked. "That coulda been real bad, ma'am.

The huntress answered with silence, staring up at the man she'd had her eye on since she he first arrived in Rayford. Only in her imagination did she envision him holding her like this; never did she expect it to actually happen, and so soon. The only reason she volunteered to help with decorating the taller buildings was so she could see where he'd be sitting during the wedding. She'd been planning to talk to him, trying to work up the nerve to introduce herself many times but never had the guts to do it. She didn't know he was just below, and no doubt watching her today.

"Uh... y'alright?" Ellis asked.

The huntress couldn't find her voice. Falling right into his arms was an unexpected turn of events, though it certainly made for a lasting first impression. He'd saved her life, or at least saved her from breaking her back. She owed him a "thank you", but she was tongue tied.

"Yer quieter than a church mouse," Ellis said to his dumbstruck "catch". "Heh... y'know, this reminds me of th' time me and mah buddy Keith wuz kicked outta church for tryin to catch church mice durin th' sermon. Church we 'tended had a rodent problem, and they wuz offerin' like two hundred bux to clean it out. See ah didn't think durin' service would be th' best time to catch a mouse cuz they don like people, but Keith figured wit the communion bread they'd be tryin' to sneak out n git the leftover crumbs in th' baskets. So anyways we go ta church in our Sundi best wit a bag a Cheetos an firecrackers in our pockets an-"

The huntress opened her mouth as though to speak, but instead grabbed Ellis by his hair and planted a sudden kiss right on his lips.

It only lasted for a few seconds, and as soon as it was done the huntress let go and scrambled out of his arms. She mumbled something that vaguely sounded like "thank you" as she pulled her hood over her head, then promptly leaped to a balcony on the adjacent building, springing back and forth to pick up where she'd "left off."

Ellis' mouth was open, but for the first time in a long time, there wasn't any sound coming out.

"Wow. If I knew that would clam you up, I'd have kissed you in every safe room we holed up in just to get some shuteye," Rochelle joked, gently lifting Ellis' chin to close his fly trap.

"Gotta admit Overalls, that's the best impression of a zombie I've ever seen," Nick commented as he sized up the stunned country boy. "The disheveled hair, that deer-in-headlights look on your face, jaw slack... looks like you even have a case of rigor-mortis starting to..."

"Shuddup Nick," Ellis mumbled, staring up at the buildings as the huntress leaped onto the roof of one building, out of sight.

.

* * *

.

"I hate dressing up," Francis mumbled as he tried in vain to do up his cufflinks again. The most fancy outfit he'd ever put on was his Sunday clothes when he was about ten. Since then, dressing to impress was something largely foreign to the biker. The tuxedo was easy enough, but his cufflinks were giving him some difficulty. He thought he could do them up on his way to the gazebo, but it was proving to be a real pain in the ass. Thank god Louis had helped him tie the bow tie. He quickly ducked into one of the vacant catering tents, standing in a corner by some of the warming trays as he attempted to fix his cuffs.

But Francis knew the real reason he was in sour spirits. He hadn't seen Alexis since their argument a few months ago. The biker often felt she was too good for him, and with her work constantly demanding the lion's share of her time, Francis found himself jealous of her job. While neither of them had formally stated they were a couple, or even dating, it was clear the tattooed survivor had more than just a passing lust for the beautiful R.N. He voiced his frustrations about never getting to see her, saying she was married to that damn quack Dr. Allan. Francis didn't have anything against the doctor, it was simply a moment of temper that boiled over, but Alexis took it personally. The fight escalated, and before they both knew it they were slinging hateful remarks back and forth. It was then that Alexis decided they needed time apart to sort out their issues. At the time that seemed easy enough for him. Hell, he hardly got to see her at all anyway.

They hadn't even spoken since that day, but still he missed her a lot more than he was willing to admit. And he knew she'd be at the wedding. He just wasn't sure what to do. He sighed as his cufflink slipped from his fingers yet again as he tried to button it.

"Need a hand with that?" A feminine voice asked with a slight rasp. Francis turned in surprise to see one of the catering staff ducking into the large tent, approaching him. She was tall. A good six feet, three inches at least. She had long black hair, deep brown eyes, and an olive complexion hinting at Latin heritage. A number of circular surgical scars ran over one side of her face, but they did little to detract from her beauty. Her hourglass-shaped figure fit snugly into her black and white formal catering outfit.

"Uh… sure." Francis said, staring up at the tall beauty. The biker recognized her as one of the RSI, a former smoker. Former since they no longer produced a sickly green cloud of smog wherever they went and had most of their tongue length removed, though they still coughed from time to time. She certainly was easy on the eyes, even with the surgical scars of her removed facial tumors. Francis had seen her around the town several times, most often from a distance, usually from atop a house or other tall building. He thought it was his imagination fueled a little by his ego, but he swore she was always looking at him before suddenly making herself scarce when he spotted her. Maybe she was trying to get up the nerve to introduce herself?

Francis chuckled inwardly; the last time he saw a smoker "stalking" him from a distance, he'd put a couple pistol rounds through his head. If he'd seen her back then, he probably would've been snagged by her beauty, then her tongue.

The female RSI coughed once reflexively, then set to work fixing his cufflinks. The corner of the tent was barely six feet high, so the tall woman had to completely crouch to fix the biker's shirt, giving him an accidental, but no less enjoyable, view of her cleavage.

"Hmm… it looks like you had a bit of trouble with your shirt studs too," she said.

"Uh.. how so?" The biker asked.

"Well... half the studs are inserted backwards, and some are only in one side of the shirt," she said. "It's not really held together."

"I thought that cumber thing you wrap around would... ah hell, I've never done this before," Francis grumbled.

"I can see that," the tall Latina giggled, noticing the biker's face turning red with embarrassment.

"I better head back and fix them," Francis sighed. Did he mention he hated dressing up?

"Please, allow me." The raven-haired beauty said with a hint of sultriness in her voice. "After all, the wedding is about to start and we wouldn't want you to be late," she said as she began removing the studs from his white shirt.

Francis chuckled. "Y'know, usually when a woman is undressing me, she's put back more than a couple drinks and we know each others' names."

She smiled coyly. "Is that an invitation?"

Francis grinned, "I hear this wedding has an open bar."

"Oh, you meant an invitation to _drink_?" She said sadly, pouting her lip in a sense of faux disappointment before flashing a big smile. Francis laughed. Her personality certainly was witty… and a little naughty.

"My name's Isabella, and what's your name, handsome?" She asked. She'd removed nearly every stud, and Francis noticed she wasn't putting them back in just yet.

"Name's Francis." The biker said, attempting to make eye contact, though his birds-eye view of Isabella's generous cleavage was making that difficult. "And for the record, I hate dressing up."

"Really? Does that mean I should leave these studs out?" Isabella asked, a wry grin on her pretty lips. Francis smiled and swallowed hard, feeling nervous for the first time since he'd stopped blasting zombies with an auto shotgun. Isabella snickered, her eyes lingering for more than a few moments at the biker's muscled chest through the thin cotton of his undershirt.

"Wow Francis, you sure work fast," a new voice said. The tall woman turned in surprise to see a dark man in a matching tuxedo enter the tent.

"Has anyone ever told you that you've got the best timing?" Francis growled. The tall Latina blushed deep, hastily doing up the shirt studs.

"And has anyone told you that you're running late? The wedding is about to start!" Louis said. "Who's this? Did you find yourself a date?"

"My name is Isabella," the tall woman said, extending her hand to the systems analyst, before turning to the biker with a smile. "And if there's an empty seat available next to you during the ceremony I'd love to fill it, Francis."

"Uh, I won't be sitting down. See, me and Louis are the 'best men'." Francis said. "But you're welcome to sit on our side up front."

"I'd like that," Isabella said.

"C'mon Louis, I know we can't keep the old man waiting." Francis said, first out of the tent.

"No we can't." Louis said with a smile, noticing the biker was in higher spirits.

The three headed outside towards the park. Isabella stayed behind the two survivors as they approached the gazebo. Chairs had been set up on either side, most of the seats on the right filled with military and a few civilians. Behind and to the right of the decorated gazebo was a bandstand and equipment, along with a makeshift dance floor. Round white tables and chairs surrounded the dance floor several feet away, and establishing the perimeter were the catering tents that formed an upside-down U shape around the dance floor.

The reverend stood inside the gazebo, dressed in his religious robes and holding the bible in one hand. He looked like a spitting image of Bill, with a haggard face and bushy mustache, though no beard. Bill stood in front of the reverend but off to the right, standing firm but looking a little nervous.

Bill smiled and nodded to Louis and Francis, casting a momentary questioning glance at the tall exotic woman to Francis' left. She smiled back politely and took a seat in the front row on the groom side. Louis and Francis stood in the best man's place behind Bill, to the left of the reverend.

A former charger and a female soldier filled in the first pair of seats up front on the side of the bride. The half-tank looking RSI was dressed in an interesting stitch-work of black and white cloth that looked something like a makeshift tux. The left arm looked prim, proper, and normal, while the oversized right arm was adorned with white buttons down the black fabric that barely covered it. The charger and his sponsor saluted Bill, who returned the gesture along with a knowing wink. The soldier blushed and pulled her "date" to the pair of seats closest to the aisle. The RSI took the seat closest to the aisle for his massive right arm. The female soldier sat to his left, placing a kiss on her date's cheek before settling in next to him, his smaller arm tugging her close.

Bill smiled fondly at the happy couple; he knew them quite well. Carl was the first charger to have been cured successfully and was sponsored by Pvt. Davis, a female ground trooper who'd seen more than her fair share of soldiers pummeled to death by Carl's brethren. She was one of those who doubted the validity of Dr. Allan's cure for the special infected, and signed up as a sponsor just so she could be the first to disapprove the entire project when things turned sour. The two were on something of rocky ground at first, but as the months passed Carl and Pvt. Davis grew fond of each other. In her status reports, Pvt. Davis had nothing negative to say about Carl's progress or his demeanor. As the weeks progressed, the two spent more time together on a personal level than observational, and the once prejudiced soldier found her point of view changing dramatically. When Carl was deemed fit to no longer require a 24 hour sponsor, he still humbly requested for Pvt. Davis to still spend time with him. They'd been inseparable since then, and only recently did Pvt. Davis confess to Bill and Eris about her and Carl having taken the next step in their relationship. She too was very worried about how the news would be taken by her fellow soldiers, but Bill reminded her that if Carl was worth it to her, she wouldn't give a damn about what the others thought.

The chairs were beginning to fill up as more civilians, military, and RSI took their places. Numerous medical staff and soldiers sat on the side of the groom, most dressed in suits though some were still in BDU's or lab coats. The RSI, all with their human sponsors both soldier and civilian, made up the mass of the bride's side. There were several former hunters, smokers, and boomers, along with a lesser number of former jockeys, chargers, spitters, and witches.

And standing behind the last row of chairs was the first RSI tank, who was decked out in nothing more than pair of black pants, huge white shirt cuffs with black studs around his wrists, and a top hat that comically adorned his head. He looked like a damn Chippendale dancer gone overboard on steroids, and he was sponsored by none other than Sergeant Powers himself, who was still in his camouflage uniform. However, his signature gas mask was gone, revealing a pale face with hardened brown eyes, a short buzz cut for hair, and a long since healed diagonal scar over his forehead. The U.K. soldier/mercenary decided to remain in the U.S. when it was clear there was still much more work to be done, though Bill never would've suspected the stoic soldier for volunteering to be a sponsor. Hell, he was surprised he'd came to the wedding.

A low murmur of voices peppered with growls and grunts began to emit from the crowd as everyone made small talk. Familiar faces began to show up next on the groom's side, the first being the four survivors they'd met during the lowering of the bridge. Coach, Nick, and Ellis, took their seats in the second row, while Rochelle stood opposite the reverend and the best men in the bridesmaid area.

Dr. Allan and Alexis arrived a few minutes later, the doctor looking very distinguished in his suit, but still quite out of place. Alexis was dressed in a pink bridesmaid dress that was just like the others, but seemed to flow like silk with every step she took. The dress was strapless, showing off her delicate shoulders and ample bosom. Dr. Allan took a seat on the side of the still absent bride in the front next to Carl and Pvt. Davis, while Alexis approached Rochelle. She stood furthest from the center, a good four inches taller than the petite survivor. Francis stood tall, but didn't make eye contact with the R.N., though it took everything he had not to. He wondered if she was feeling the same way he was. Even in his peripheral vision, he couldn't tell if Alexis was trying to steal a glance in his direction.

Zoey was next, holding her dress up a little as she hurried down the aisle to take her place next to Rochelle. The three bridesmaids spoke in hushed tones as they looked at Francis, giggling before the biker scowled in their direction. Both survivors smiled and looked away, while the tall R.N. simply maintained a Mona Lisa smile as she kept her gaze on the filling seats.

Pandia and Selene were the last to arrive save for the absent bride herself. Their arms were hooked together as they walked closely like a couple, turning heads on both sides of the aisle; typical for the two of them. They'd matured mentally quite a bit since being cured. Though they weren't related by blood, they regarded themselves as close "sisters" who shared more with each other than a simple bond of faux siblings. They were dressed in their usual skin-contrasting punk/goth looking outfits: Midriff exposing tops that also pushed up the bosom, fingerless gloves that extended up to the elbow, and matching short skirts with high-rise stockings. Their outfits showed more curves and skin than Bill thought was prudent, since they were constantly turning the heads of their fellow RSI and even attracting the attention of the more disciplined soldiers. Their skimpy attire was a hodge-podge modeled after various music artists.

The two witches first developed the desire to sing from listening to their beautiful and vocally talented "Matron." After finding out there was a greater variety of singing and music, the two witches listened to every music CD's they could get their trimmed claws on. The pictures of the various artists in their band attire were fascinating to the two music lovers, and inspired how they dressed. Like many things, the twins argued about what types of music were best, but they came to agree that rock was a shared favorite among them both, with disco following a close second.

Since discovering this new common passion, apart from each other, the two witches were dead set on becoming stars. They'd formed a band with other interested RSI and were dressing the part of their favorite idols. Instruments were a rarity, but eventually some old guitars, a keyboard, and drums had been scavenged. Nothing fancy, but it worked for them. The old vet knew that luxury items like electric guitars and amps would be pretty hard to come by.

The pair practically waltzed down the aisle like they owned the place as they approached their papa, who despite being nervous, was quite dashing in his dress blues.

"You look sooo handsome!" Pandia sighed dreamily, running her manicured hands over Bill's arms as she went nearly nose to nose with him.

"Don't wrinkle his clothes," Selene scolded playfully, nudging her "sister" aside so she could take her place on Bill's other arm. "Though I agree, papa's _very _handsome. Matron is one lucky woman," she purred, causing the war vet to blush. The twins always did this, trying to embarrass him. Though they considered Bill their "papa" they knew enough that they weren't actually his or Eris' biological children, so they often teased him with somewhat excessive affection. Especially Pandia. The white witch had one heck of a daddy complex.

The twins simultaneously kissed the war vet on opposite cheeks, then whispered something that caused him to stiffen. Bill's adopted daughters giggled and took their seats on opposite sides of the aisle, Pandia on the groom's, Selene on the bride's.

"What was that about?" Louis whispered.

"Something about a surprise for after the ceremony," Bill whispered out of the corner of his mouth, catching Selene's goldenrod eyes alight with mischief. The black witch spoke in hushed tones to a hunter beside her. The hunter nodded and gave a thumbs up gesture to the white witch on the other side of the aisle, who in turn snickered back, then arched her crimson eyes slyly at Bill.

"_And knowing those two, it won't be anything typical." _The war vet thought to himself.

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* * *

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"You look beautiful."

"Thank yoooouu, General Raleigh," The bride said in a shy voice to the uniformed gentleman. General Raleigh was in his 60's, right around Bill's age, with a slightly stocky but muscled build. He was dressed in his finest for today as well, looking the picture of handsome authority.

"No, thank you for letting me 'give you away.'" The general said, his voice beginning to break as he blinked his eyes to fight back the tears. "I never had the chance to give away any of my daughters..."

"Please don't crrryyyy, because then I'll start crying, and I'd like to save that at least until I'm up there with Biiillllll," the bride said, smiling.

General Raleigh chuckled and stood tall, pushing back his emotions. "I want you to know that it doesn't matter if anyone thinks this marriage is 'odd' or 'wrong'." Love knows no boundaries, and that's why I wanted this to be so public," the general said, placing his hands on her shoulders as he stared her in the eyes. "Hell, if the men can handle RSI walking around the base without shooting them, surely a simple wedding between two people…"

"Two veerrrry different people…" She interjected quietly.

"And what's so different?" The general asked.

The bride shot him a lopsided stare behind her veil.

"Do you love him?" General Raleigh asked her, stone faced.

"With all my heart," She answered immediately.

"Does he love you?" He continued.

"God I hope so." The nervous woman in white answered.

"God knows so, and so do you. And in a few minutes you're going to make it official in front of God and show every living breathing human being that even in the darkest of times, love can bloom." The general said with a smile, extending his hand. "Shall we?"

Eris took a deep breath, gently hooking her arm in his, as he lead her to her future.

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A/N: I just can't help myself for details, which I guess is why this story is so long. :-) Obviously there's more to come, though it may be some time before I can publish it. I also decided to introduce some more characters to see if my readers have any preferences for pairings (aside from what I've already been asked of course). Review!


	23. The Passing Wedding prt2

_**Legal Disclaimer: Ugh. I hate doing this, but here we go. Valve owns: Hunter, Smoker, Boomer, Jockey, Spitter, Witch, Tank, Charger, Bill, Louis, Francis, Zoey, Ellis, Nick, Rochelle, and Coach. They also own the generic plot that makes up Left 4 Dead and Left 4 Dead 2.**_

_**Tripwire owns Sergeant Powers in name only.**_

_**Xmodius owns everything else that cannot be claimed by the above parties, including but not limited to: Eris, Pandia, Selene, Jade, MR-1, Dr. Allan, Alexis, Isabella, General Raleigh and any other characters that aren't listed above. The grand and perverse writer also owns this subplot.**_

_Mature Content WARNING! This story contains violence and sexual themes and should not be read by those who aren't of age or who could get me into hot water by reading this and getting caught. However you've done pretty well if you've made it this far. :-)_

Author's Notes: I keep saying I'm wrapping things up, and I am! I promise! I just keep getting sick and twisted ideas and I have to get them out before they completely destroy my already shattered mind.

A quick note. For those dedicated anonymous fans, those unknown users, who wish to compliment me and submit their ideas, please take the following to heart: I love all praise and criticism and am interested in your thoughts for this story or others, however if you don't have a FF account I cannot write you back to talk further about your twisted ideas. I also cannot thank you for writing a review (yes folks, I've written back to EVERY SINGLE signed review I've received). Most of the time this results in some conversation between me and the reviewer, and sometimes ideas are brought to light that I try to put in my story. The point in this blip is simply if you really want to get involved, get a FF account and leave a signed review. Not that you shouldn't review even if you're anonymous, but I cannot reply to it. :-(

Enjoy!

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Chapter 21: The Passing Wedding (part 2)

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The early afternoon sun lit up Rayford's park, the white gazebo in the center practically glowing with the perpetual happiness of what was to come. The crowd squirmed in their chairs, abuzz with idle chit chat and questions as they awaited the final arrival.

The three bridesmaids stood to the right of the reverend who idly thumbed through his bible as he waited for the "guest of honor." The groom stood tall and proud with his two best men behind him as he faced the aisle.

The low murmur of voices hushed as the ceremonial music began playing from one of the loudspeakers. Everyone turned around in their seats to see the final two arrivals. Slowly marching up the concrete stairs behind the seats was the distinguished general, and on his arm the most beautiful bride anyone had ever laid eyes on.

Eris smiled nervously behind her sheer white veil as she and General Raleigh slowly walked down the red-carpeted-covered aisle. Her platinum hair was done up, completely exposing her shoulders. White lace gloves ran from her manicured hands all the way up her arms, stopping where the cut of her dress began. The white wedding dress tastefully showed some of her gray cleavage, hugging her curves but blossoming out below her waist, almost touching the ground. The RSI stared in awe and fascination, having never seen their "matron" looking so dressed up and knock-down gorgeous. The human sponsors were also silent with admiration, considering how difficult it was to find nice clothing at all, let alone such a magnificent dress which the gray goddess wore like a model.

The human soldiers and some of the civilians on the groom's side were another matter. All remained silent, but many had frowns on their faces, some directed towards the general, but most towards the "infected" on his arm. Eris could feel the tension and she subconsciously squeezed General Raleigh's arm. The general cast a glare at his men, who promptly stiffened up and turned to face forward as he and Eris reached the gazebo. The gesture was thoughtful, but not enough to calm her nerves.

Only when Eris saw her friends looking their finest and standing proudly up front, and her wonderful fiance's smiling face, did she finally feel her insecurities slip away. Zoey was right. The opinions of the soldiers didn't matter. What mattered was she loved William Overbeck.

General Raleigh reluctantly released Eris' arm and took a seat in the front row by the groom. Bill and Eris locked eyes for a moment, then turned towards the reverend who was all smiles as he cleared his throat.

"Dearly beloved," the reverend said in a clear and almost commanding voice, one that suggested he held more than just a religious title. "We are gathered here for a most joyous occasion. The joining of two kindred spirits, who together have found the greatest treasure of all, love. And today, before God and all present, they wish to share this love with each other for the rest of their lives. If anyone objects to this union, for whatever reason, may they speak now... or forever hold their peace."

The reverend paused for a moment, but the only sound was a gentle afternoon breeze rustling the leaves of the magnolia trees. Eris' wings fluttered reflexively at the sensation of the wind caressing her feathers.

"Do you have the rings?" The reverend asked.

"Yes," they answered, withdrawing them.

"I understand you've written your own vows." The black-robed man said, before gesturing to the groom. "Colonel Overbeck..."

Bill cleared his throat as he stared into the amber eyes that still glowed behind the white veil.

"Eris. Every day of my life I've vainly tried to outrace time. But no matter how hard I've fought to stay in shape, to stay sharp, to keep my memory clear, my age is still catching up to me. I grow tired easier. I have gray hair. I've found wrinkles on the face I see in the mirror. Yet with old age nipping at my heels, I've become restless. I've lived what I thought was a full life, but it always felt like I was missing something." The war vet paused for a moment. "Until the day I met _them._" Bill gestured to his best men and to the petite light-skinned bridesmaid. "When the world went to hell, I thought I was getting one last "hurrah" to my fading youth. Comrades to protect. An enemy to fight."

The war vet paused, noticing the slight air of discomfort over the RSI. Nearly all of them had come to grips with their actions when under the influence of MR-1, and while many of them were dealing with this through medication or were lucky enough to have found closure through their sponsors and counseling, the numerous soldiers stationed to "guard" them had _not_ forgotten what the RSI were capable of.

Bill continued, addressing Eris. "I thought, 'This was my god-given duty as a soldier.' And I knew that the rest of my life didn't matter. All that mattered was seeing my comrades survived. That was my destiny."

He paused for a moment, his bride hanging on his every word with her watery amber eyes.

"I was wrong." Bill said, now addressing everyone sitting before them.

"Eris, the day you walked into our lives... walked into _my_ life, was the day you saved me from 'destiny.' I felt young again, but not just because I'd fallen in love. Because I found someone who is so extraordinary. So strong. So full of life and hope. Someone who proved to this old dog of a soldier that life was worth living, no matter what the world had become. But this stubborn old fool still doubted the world was worth saving." Bill said as Zoey cleared her throat and smirked knowingly. "Yes. I tried to throw away my life. Tried to convince my friends that we should've run away from the nightmare, but I was wrong. Because it wasn't just about protecting you." The war vet squeezed his lovers hands as he poured his heart out. "It wasn't just about fighting for Zoey, Louis, or Francis. Not even about Xavier or Heather, God rest their souls."

The war vet paused for a moment and lowered his head out of silent respect. He noticed every soldier present followed suit for a few seconds.

"It wasn't about me and what I thought I had to do. It was about the world. I am so in love with you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you, even if life as we know it were to end tomorrow. But I'm selfish, because I wanted more. I didn't want just a world with you in it, but a world with _everyone _in it." The war vet turned to the soldiers and the numerous RSI who hung on his every word, nodding as to include them in that statement. "A world where we can live life, love, and have children. Where we can live our dreams and grow old... well older... together." Francis snickered a little at that, and Alexis stifled a giggle too. "And that's why I knew I had to... no.. _would _survive, not because I'm a soldier, and not because of destiny, but because I could never leave any of you." Bill said, now addressing his comrades, before staring his soon-to-be wife in her watering amber eyes. "And most importantly, I can't leave this spot today without knowing you'll be by my side for the rest of my life. I love you Eris. You did more than save my life. You showed me what it means to _live_. Please be my comrade, my companion, my love, and my wife... for the rest of our lives."

The reverend smiled and nodded. "And you, Eris?"

The gray goddess raised a finger for a moment of pause as she composed herself. There she was crying again, but then who could blame her?

"Bill. I have a confession," said the gray goddess. The war vet looked puzzled, and a very quiet whisper could be heard amongst the crowd.

"When you took me in that first night... invited me into your group of survivors, I knew I felt something mooore towards you. But I wasn't sure if that was mutual from you, even the next day when you saaaved me from..." Eris trailed off. She didn't like talking about that moment when he saved her from the hunter, in part because of the guilt some of the RSI would feel; they didn't deserve it.

Bill nodded in understanding, urging her to continue.

"But later that day you had a dreeeaam that you saw our death here, in Rayford..." Eris paused when her blue-eyed bridesmaid gasped, for neither Eris nor Bill had shared this. "Yeess Zoey. Biill had a dream... a vision... like yooouurs." The gray goddess returned her amber eyes to the war vet. "And I'm grateful every day his did not come truuuuee." Eris smiled and returned her words to her fiance. "Biiill. When I held you in my aarrms, when I comforted yoou, when I saw the look on your faace when you woke to my singing, I knew yooou felt mooore for me. My heart felt like it would beat out of myyy chest."

Eris squeezed Bill's hands and drew closer. "I could see it in your eyes. I knew you loved me. And I thought I loooved you then." Eris paused, smiling sheepishly at her lover from behind her veil. "When we fought side by side on the rooftop, when you risked your liiife to save me from faaallling to my death, I knew you loved me. And... I thought I loved you then. Every night I spent in your arms... " the siren sighed and fluttered her wings, a classic sign to Bill that she was either nervous or very happy. "I... I truly thought I loved you then..." Eris took a deep breath...

"Iiii was wrong."

Bill's ticker stopped. What was she saying? She didn't love him? A hushed murmur rippled through the crowd.

Eris raised a lace-gloved hand to her handsome soldier's lips, silencing him. "We've shared a lifetime together already. We've shaarrred pain, joy, fear, looove, loss, and everything in between. We've been living and making memories I will cherish for the rest of my liiiife, with friends and family..." The bride paused again as fresh tears formed in her eyes. "Biiillll... I thought I loved you then. And I was wrong. Every day I think I couldn't possibly love yoooou anymore than I did the daaay before. And every day... I'm wrong. And 'wrong' never felt so right," Eris said, squeezing Bill's hand. "And I won't leave this spot without yooou _right _beside meeee."

Zoey let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding. Louis wiped some sweat from his brow, and even Francis looked like he visibly relaxed.

"And everyday you surprise the hell outta me," Bill whispered, about to keel over himself.

"_Someone _has to keep you on your toooes," she said coyly.

"Just promise to keep me on 'em forever, and never let me feel old."

The siren nodded as she and her love turned to the reverend.

"William, do you take Eris as your wife? To have and to hold, to honor and cherish, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?"

"I do." Bill said proudly as he slipped the ring over Eris' third finger. He heard a sniffle and glanced at the crowd. Pandia had her hands clasped and clutched to her breasts, a damp tissue partially crumpled and sticking out. She smiled, fresh tears running from her crimson eyes down her snow white face.

"And do you Eris, take William as your husband? To have, to hold, to honor, to cherish..." Eris nodded, tears running down her cheeks as the reverend continued his question, "... for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?"

"I dooo. Always and forever," she said with a tremble in her voice, her shaking hand slipping the band over the war vet's ring finger.

A quick glance on the other side and Selene was also drying her goldenrod eyes. In fact a number of RSI were on the edge of their seats, some holding back tears, others quietly crying, some beaming with pride, and others simply awestruck. Bill had to hold in a chuckle, because in the back row the large muscled Sgt. Powers struggled as though he were holding up a damn tree. Frank the tank had thrown one massive arm over the mercenary's shoulders and was leaning on him, his other huge fist rubbing at his eyes. Even with his above-average stature, the limey looked like he was having difficulty supporting the tank's leaning weight.

"Then by the powers vested in me by God and the state of Georgia, I hereby pronounce you Mr. and Mrs. Overbeck. You may-"

The roar of the crowd interrupted the reverend as the new couple promptly embraced and smashed their lips together in unbridled passion.

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.

The newly weds were surrounded by their friends on either side as they all sat a very long table that stretched along the edge of the makeshift wooden outdoor dance floor. Said table was opposite the bandstand with its mysterious tarps that probably covered electronic equipment. Two more long tables ran perpendicular from the edges of the main table, forming a U-shape with about six feet of space between the tables and the dance floor. Everyone had finished listening to several speeches from the couple's closest friends about the bright future of the happy couple. A cooler late afternoon breeze rustled the tablecloths, the sun having begun its slow descent towards the horizon two hours ago.

"Thank you everyone for making this day so memorable for us," Bill said. "And a special thanks to the incredible catering staff and their master chef who put together a belt-busting meal."

Several folks clapped as the former boomette smiled and waved. She stood by the wedding cake as though guarding it from her "date" who was turned around in his chair eying the towering dessert.

"Daymn right. A great meal," Coach said before a belch escaped him. The burly survivor felt the need to loosen his belt.

"Don fuget you owes me a dance, sugah," the boomette said.

"I can't wait to get out on that dance floor!" Rochelle grinned, standing from her seat. "C'mon Nick."

"Pass." Nick said flatly, taking a sip of wine.

"Afraid to show me your outdated dance moves, old man?" Rochelle retorted.

Nick was about to make a comment as dry as his wine should've been, but the two witches staring at him drew his attention. They both had their honey jars to their lips as though sipping, but it was clear they were using it as a cover to stare at him.

"Yes ladies?" Nick said with a slick smile.

Pandia and Selene froze, caught in the act.

"Um..." The white witch said, her honey jar still at her lips. Nick winked, and the two of them quickly placed their jars down and dabbed each others' chin.

"No one can start dancing yet." The black witch said quickly, trying to divert the attention.

"That's right!" Her contrasting sister chimed in, trying to will away her blushing. "Not before our surprise!"

Nick arched a curious eyebrow as the twins quickly rose from their seats. Everyone watched with a puzzled air as their adopted daughters, joined by a hunter and smoker from the crowd, hurried over to the bandstand. The RSI whipped away the tarps to reveal their surprise: Two electric guitars, one fire engine red, the other sports car yellow, were promptly snatched up by the twins, each taking the color that matched their eyes. In the back was a set of drums and next to it a sophisticated looking electronic keyboard next to some audio controls.

The hunter took his place behind the drums, then completely removed his hoodie sweatshirt, revealing a black t-shirt that showed off his toned upper body. His eyes were covered by a pair of fashionable shades. The smoker stood behind the electronic keyboard, his long tongue adjusting a knob on the audio controls while his hands flew over the keys to test the board presets. His jacket was left opened, which partially showed off his bare chest, and his raven black hair hung in a wave over one eye that was narrowed in concentration. Large black speakers framed the set up from the back and were pointed towards the dance floor.

"Surprise!" The twins shouted over the microphone. Nearly everyone flinched at the amplified sound emitted from the large speakers. The two witches blushed and lowered their voices as they continued.

"Ever since we were adopted by our Matron and Papa Bill, we've been the happiest we could ever be," Pandia said. "Because of them, we've been given a second chance at life."

"And we know that every single RSI here feels the same sense of gratitude. Though a lot of you have your own sponsors..." Selene paused as Carl and Pvt. Davis smiled and nuzzled each other in their seats, "...I know everyone looks to our Matron and Papa Bill as foster parents."

"Will you two stop?" Bill called out jokingly. "You're embarrassing your old mmmph."

Eris causally put her arm around her husband and covered his mouth. "I think what your 'old' papa is saying is you both flatter us too much." The winged siren said.

"I think I speak for every RSI when I say we could never flatter or tell you both enough how much you mean to us," Pandia said. "And that's part of our surprise!"

Selene adjusted the guitar strap over her bared shoulder before addressing the bride. "Matron, your voice is... incredible. When you sing, you fill us all with such joy. I can't even describe it."

The black witch noticed a number of RSI were nodding in agreement. Whenever Eris sang, everyone within earshot would gather, but the RSI were always the first to draw to her, often outrunning their own sponsors. It was as though her voice called to them. Her voice instilled a sense of utter tranquility and calm over everyone, both human and RSI alike, but for the cured special infected it ran even deeper than that. Selene knew the humans wouldn't understand, for they didn't share a bond with other humans the way the RSI did with each other. And Matron's singing was the focal point of that bond for all of them. She wondered if Matron herself knew about this powerful connection.

"And it's what inspired us to be singers as well," Pandia said. "We love you both so much, and I hope tonight we make you as happy as you've made us."

"Papa... Matron... this is for you!" The twins said proudly, motioning them to stand.

Bill and Eris walked around the edge of the tables, making their way to the large wooden dance floor. Everyone rose from their seats.

Selene nodded to the smoker, who readied his fingers over the keys. The hunter twirled two drumsticks in his claws and smirked.

The twins felt their hearts racing as they began playing. They had practiced and practiced it for weeks to ensure they would play this song perfectly. Pandia started up by strumming the first notes on her guitar; Selene joined in a moment later, and the smoker began playing as well before the first verse started.

The war vet and the gray goddess stood together in the center of the floor, their arms wrapping around each other as the familiar music filled their ears.

"I wanted you to knooooow... that I love the waaaay you laugh. I wanna hold you high and steal your pain... awaaaay," the crimson-eyed witch sang in a tone most beautiful. "I keep your photograappph..."

"And I know it serves me well, "Bill mouthed to his smiling lover.

"I wanna hold you high and steeal your paaain," Eris whispered back.

"Cause I'm broookeen, when I'm loooneesome. And I don't feeel right, when you're goonee awaaay." Selene added to her sister's voice, her own a little bit deeper but the perfect compliment.

Pandia and Selene played and sang the song perfectly, the energy and passion of the moment flowing into every last person like the air they breathed.

Everyone watched in awe as the loving couple danced together, spinning and twirling around as their "children" sang to them. Bill stared into his wife's beautiful amber eyes remembering the first time they'd done this: When "tomorrow" seemed like nothing more than a fleeting promise, and "yesterday" was but a distant memory. And now here they were, living their future and forging memories that would be far from fleeting or distant, but would stand the test of time.

The song reached its crescendo and the couple spiraled around as the whole world seemed to melt away. By this point all the band members were singing, and a good number of the audience was adding their voice as well.

"Cause I'm broooken, when I'm looonesoome! And I don't feeeel right, when you're gooonne away!"

"You're here to staaay," Bill sang to his wife, changing the last line. "Be with me here... evermore."

Eris was choking up, a tear threatening to run down her cheek. It took everything she had to keep from singing as well, but she restrained herself. The moment belonged to her "daughters" who'd worked so hard to make this first dance special.

The gray goddess kissed her husband passionately, then turned with watering eyes to the band.

"Thaaannnk yoooou," she sang, drying her eyes.

Everyone applauded.

Pandia and Selene smiled proudly, about to cry themselves, but held back their own tears. It wasn't over yet.

"So what are you all waiting for?" Selene asked the audience. "Let's dance!"

.

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The band played a few more live songs with more skill than their experience gave them. They had talent, but it was clear by their limited repertoire that they also had a ways to go yet. Luckily the scouting crews had found some deejay equipment that was preloaded with a massive collection of music. The band's keyboardist took up the task of being the deejay, keeping the music flowing for the many happy dancing couples who surrounded the bride and groom.

Though not everyone was tearing up the floor. Ellis was still shoveling down food like he had invisible saddlebags on his hips, not even taking a break between mouth-fulls while he talked about "The Adventures of Me and Mah Buddy Keith, Vol. XIV" to his new friend. Said huntress was completely entranced, leaning on her hands and staring at the country boy with puppy dog eyes that were barely visible beneath her hoodie. Ellis couldn't have been happier, since no one _ever _listened to him even finish a story about him and Keith, let alone hang on his every word. Coach and the boomette chef were actually sharing a piece of wedding cake by feeding each other. Rochelle was chatting with the twin witches who were constantly casting shifty glances at Nick who sat several seats away, sipping his wine and obviously bored out of his mind. Francis sat a few seats away from him, he and his date watching the happy dancing couples. Though the biker tried to act uninterested, watching Alexis laugh as she practically led Dr. Allan around the dance floor was hard to ignore.

"I hate dancing," Francis grumbled.

"Yeah me too," sighed Isabella.

The biker's curiosity lead him to ask, "Why?"

The former smoker spat out a laugh and stood, "Look at me."

Francis eyed the tall Latina up. She had a nice figure, though not as curvy as Alexis. Long, slender legs that led to a spank-able bubble butt were well defined beneath her snug black catering pants. The biker could picture that lovely derriere in a thong bikini. Her slender torso and proportionate chest were not to be ignored either, their shape visible through her button up white catering shirt. The top two buttons were undone, showing off a not too generous amount of cleavage, though likely only done for ventilation. A smooth, graceful neck led up to her slightly elongated face, which only enhanced her exotic appearance. Her facial scars were the perfect imperfection to break the otherwise unnaturally balanced symmetry of her face.

Isabella blushed shyly and turned away from the biker's scrutinous eye. Francis scratched his head. Why was she...

"Your height." The biker said. Thinking about it, he understood. Most guys didn't go for girls their height or taller than them, and most women didn't like a man who was shorter, but Alexis was his height and he didn't mind that one bit. The self-conscious smoker was nearly a foot taller than him. He'd misjudged her height in the changing tent when she assisted him.

Isabella slowly nodded, suppressing a reflexive cough. "Its bad enough I tower over everybody. I have to watch my head walking through doors, be wary of low hanging ceiling lamps, and I can't count how many tree branches have whacked me in the face, but I'm taller than most of the male RSI smokers too." She stared at Francis with forlorn eyes. "_You'd_ need to wear stilts just to put your arms around my back and see me face to face. Otherwise a dance would be one long session of holding my ass and staring at my chest."

The tall beauty sighed, dejected. They hardly knew each other and she was already sharing her insecurities with him. But she couldn't help herself. Something about him called to her, though she couldn't place what. He probably thought she was just an insecure, clingy, towering freak.

"I hate dancing, because I only get to do it once." Francis mumbled.

Isabella cocked an eyebrow.

"I have 'roaming' hands and 'wandering' eyes," the biker said, scratching the back of his head. "Few times I danced in high school the girls never asked for another because my hands or eyes were always wandering a little low. But I couldn't help it then, and I wouldn't help it now. When dancing so close a gorgeous woman like you, who could help not wanting to look... or touch? Trust me, any red-blooded man who's sure of himself would jump at the chance to dance with you. You're hot _and _have a naughty sense of humor."

The skeptical woman's brow furrowed as she mulled over the compliment. Anyone else who said what he did she would think a pig, but for some reason she didn't mind the idea of Francis touching her like that while having lustful thoughts. In fact, it excited her.

Francis turned his attention back to the dance floor, but Dr. Allan's dance partner was gone. Before he had a chance to scope her out, a smooth hand pulled him out of his seat, bringing him face to face with a chest that was barely covered by the white button-up catering shirt.

"You sure do take the long route when asking a lady to dance," Isabella whispered.

"Yeah, I guess I do," Francis laughed.

"Francis, I would love to dance with you," Isabella said with a big smile.

The biker chuckled and nodded his head as though trying to shake Alexis from his mind. It had been months, and throughout the entire day his ex-love didn't even cast a glance at him, let alone even care what he did. Perhaps it was time to move on.

Putting on his best smile, perhaps even fooling himself, Francis hurriedly pulled his date onto the dance floor.

.

.

"Congratulations to you both," Dr. Allan said as he and Alexis danced in a slow circle next to Bill and Eris.

"Thanks doc," Bill said, before noticing the ebony woman across from him wasn't her usual self. "Alexis, are you alright?"

"It's nothing." She sighed, addressing the skeptical war vet.

"Horseshit," Eris said, cutting her love off before he could answer. The siren giggled at Bill's incredulous look; she almost never swore. But she also knew Alexis would be more apt to talk to her than her hubby.

"Zoooeeyy," the gray goddess sang to the petite comrade who was busy with Louis as they both read over the playlist with the smoker deejay. "Care to fill in for me?"

"Sure thing." The auburn haired beauty in pink kissed the systems analyst on the lips, then hurried over to dance with Bill. Alexis was puzzled when Eris gently took her hand and pulled her off the dance floor.

"What about me?" Dr. Allan asked, but a petite woman suddenly filled his arms.

"Sorry, but I needed a reason to get away," Rochelle said as she placed the doctor's hands around her tapered waist. "If I had to answer any more questions about Nick to those two," she gestured over her shoulder to the black and white witches. The two sisters were quietly whispering to each other, as though trying to get up the courage to talk to the stoic, dark-haired, survivor in white who sat by himself. "Gawd the way they're fawning about him, you'd think they'd just make a move already or-"

Rochelle's jaw fell open. Faster than a cheetah after a gazelle, the two witches had overcome their shyness and were already sitting on either side of the dark-haired former con-man, taking him from "bored" to "interested" in two seconds flat with their obvious flirting.

"Sweet Lincoln's mullet..." the aspiring reporter sighed. Though she wasn't attracted to her comrade, she still couldn't believe the two exotic looking women were so fixated on him. Sure he was handsome in his own way, but his surly, smart ass attitude could douse any woman's fire. And the only thing that stopped Rochelle from slapping him on numerous occasions back when they were on the run was his incredible skill at head-shooting zombies.

The distinguished doctor chuckled. "It can't be helped. My name's Dr. Allan by the way," he said to his new dance partner.

"Rochelle," said the biracial bridesmaid. She looked again as they spun around. The white witch was holding Nick's left hand, staring intently at his various rings. The black witch was giggling and held her hands together like a fake gun as Nick talked. Probably some line of over embellished bullshit about his quote unquote adventures as a con man.

"Wait a minute, what do you mean it can't be helped?" Rochelle asked.

Dr. Allan spun his dance partner around as the song changed. "Well you see..."

.

.

"Sweetie don't worry about me," Alexis said dismissively, trying to turn away.

Eris frowned like a mother after a stubborn child. "Why not? When yoou've done so much for meee. For all the RSIiii."

"I'd have done that no matter what," the ebony R.N. said, trying to adjusting her dress. While not strapless, the gown was falling forward in the front, showing just a little more cleavage than even _she _felt was prudent.

"Please..." Eris said before working her fingers under Alexis' gown straps, adjusting it for her. She could sympathize with the well-endowed R.N.

"Thank you hon," Alexis said, placing her hands under her bosom and hefting it. "Trying to keep these girls covered is-"

The siren giggled, thinking of how many times Bill's eyes wandered towards her own chest while they danced. "Yooou should dance with Francis. I'm sure he wouldn't miiind the view."

Alexis laughed aloofly, though her eyes betrayed her true feelings. She was just like the man she denied she had feelings for: Loving and passionate on the inside, but covered by a hard shell of faux apathy and indifference. And just like Francis, Alexis' pride would stop her from coming forth. Eris knew that nothing less than a proverbial shove would get the R.N. to talk with her big boy.

Eris' eyes narrowed as she peered over Alexis' shoulder. Francis was dancing with a tall smoker RSI, though what caught her attention was the fact that one couldn't slip a piece of paper between them. Francis' head was almost in the woman's chest, and while his hands would've fallen perfectly over his dance partner's rear, he clumsily held them up, grasping her lower back instead. The RSI was smiling and leaning over him a little, pressing her chest against his face while her hands groped his ass, though with her height she looked awkward bent over that way. The female smoker seemed very happy, but Francis' smile was as transparent as a shower curtain.

Perfect.

"Oh myyyy," Eris sang with an exaggerated, nervous undertone. "I guess someone already asked him."

Alexis followed the siren's amber gaze over to the dance floor, and in an instant she felt a number of emotions flood her heart, some that were quite foreign to her when it came to any man.

But as the dancing pair turned, Alexis got a good look at Francis' lecherous date, and one eye twitched as a very powerful emotion surfaced: Jealousy.

"Ah... I... 'scuse me," she said, practically storming over to the dancing pair, and as they saw her both their eyes went wide.

"Mierda! Mi 'madre'!" Isabella cried in surprise as she let go of her date. "Perdóname. No en qué estaba pensando."

"Forgive you? Didn't mean to? Sorry, my ass!" Alexis about screamed, pulling her away from the biker.

"What the? You two know each other?" Francis asked. "Uh...you speak Spanish, beautiful?" He said, looking at his flustered nurse.

Alexis bared her teeth, seething with rage that _her _man, _her big boy,_ was already referring to his dance partner with pet names, until she realized Francis was talking to her. Her rage subsided for a moment as their eyes locked, God how she missed him. She nearly forgot why she was so angry, but that moment passed like a summer breeze.

"_Si_," She said, refocusing her anger. "I'm Isabella's sponsor."

"Whoa." Francis said, turning to Isabella. "You knew about me and Alexis? Then why did you..."

"Con permiso?"

"I no hable espagnol, or whatever." Francis said.

Isabella shook her head as though shaking sense into herself. "Sorry, I still remember a lot of my native language and I mix it up when I'm nervous. Pardon me? You two are together? I didn't know, really! Is _that_ why you're angry, 'madre'?"

This time it was Alexis who suddenly froze, looking very much like Isabella did: On the spot and guilty of something, but what?

"Wait a minute," Francis said, the rusted gears in his head trying to turn. He figured Alexis was angry because she was jealous, which warmed his heart, but he didn't understand why she was suddenly so nervous. And if Isabella didn't know about himself and Alexis, then why was _she _apologizing?

"Ooooh. _Now_ I understand." Isabella said as she bent over next to Alexis, her lips pulling into a perfect impression of her sponsor's typical coy grin. "I'm not the only one in the dark here, mi 'madre' hermosa." She whispered sultrily in her ear, her tongue slipping out to lick her neck. "You're not mad at me, you're mad at yoursellllaaaackpth! Haay! Mah tong! Leggo meh!"

"'Scuse us, big boy. 'Shorty' and I have to have a 'mother daughter' talk," Alexis said with an awkward smile as she squeezed Isabella's lengthy tongue.

"Peeasee madrrah! Ah sowwy!" The exotic RSI was practically yanked into a hunched over position as Alexis led her to a catering tent away from the dance floor.

"Mother? Daughter? The hell?" Francis started, but winced when Alexis dragged the lady smoker away by her tongue the way his mom used to yank him by the ear when he'd done something to piss her off. The poor thing was bent over at the waist as she barely kept her gait with the R.N., staggering and trying to apologize over and over in Spanish.

"Women..." Francis sighed. "As if one wasn't enough..."

.

.

"You two are double trouble," Nick said with a poker face. He'd enjoyed talking about his own exploits when the black and white witch sisters asked, but now they were seriously pushing the line for being in his personal space. The whole thing had gone from flirty to down-right seductive. But the worst part was the con man was losing his resolve. He knew he could fool anyone; years of practice had made him a master of deception. But he could never fool himself, and the bulge beneath his pants had only gone unnoticed because of the tablecloth draped over it.

"Wouldn't you loooove to get into trouble?" The snow white witch asked coyly, pulling his arm to get him to stand.

Nick didn't budge.

"Oh come on, just _one _teensy little dance?" The midnight-skinned, golden-eyed witch added.

Silence.

"Pllleeeaasseee?" They asked together, squeezing his arms.

"No." Nick said flatly, trying to keep his demeanor as cool as the late afternoon, but damn it these two witches were worse than a wool cap and a scarf on a summer day. Tenacious and playful, but he knew their game. They were known for being flirty and teasing, and though they were in their 20's, they acted like a couple high school girls. He doubted they had any genuine interest in him. More likely they were messing with him, just trying to see if he would be foolish enough to actually break out some old dance moves so they could have a laugh at his expense.

A classic trick. One he wasn't about to fall for.

"Why nooot?" Pandia whined.

"Afraid we'll out-dance you on that floor, disco stud?" Selene said, playfully punching his arm.

"Disco's dead you know." Nick said as he brushed away the wrinkle she'd put in his suit as casually as he'd brushed away their taunt.

"Oh really?" Said the white witch latched onto his left arm, leaning closer with her sister. "Then you're holding a long burning candle for it, aintcha?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Remember the bachelor party from last night?" The black witch asked, running a trimmed claw up his arm.

"What about it?"

"We remember a certain shirtless stud getting into an argument about rock and disco." They purred simultaneously.

Nick stared blankly in thought. Were the witches at the party last night? There were several RSI and survivors. Coach and Ellis were there, but Rochelle was off with that Zoey girl. There was also that jackass biker, the black system's analyst who's name was escaping him, and an old war vet named Bill who he'd missed when their teams crossed paths in Rayford. Though he'd never met him while on the run, he was a damn legend around here. And all the RSI present were male, he thought. He'd drank so much he couldn't even remember. The only thing he did remember clearly was arguing with that tattooed biker jackass about disco being better than rock. When there was no clear winner to that argument, the biker challenged him to a drinking contest, saying that only a hard core rock fan could hold his liquor, not like some disco-lovin' candy-ass in a white leisure suit.

They both tipped the alcohol back like water, and at that point Nick vaguely remembered several of his fellow survivors leaving, though the RSI were interested. When it was clear no one was going to puke or pass out, the biker switched tactics. He said something to the effect of "no queer disco lover could ever be as tough as a hard rockin' biker." That was when he decided to show off his tattoos, as if that had anything to do with being manly. Nick had removed his shirt as well to prove that he didn't need tattoos to distract anyone from any "imperfections" on his body. The biker then accused him of being all show and no go. That was when Nick decided to throw down his drink and his sanity by challenging the big ape to arm wrestling, to prove some "queer disco lover" could easily out muscle a shit-for-brains, rock-lovin' biker.

It lasted about two minutes, though it felt like two hours, and they way everyone else was cheering them on, you'd think it was a boxing match. His arm burned like he'd just wrestled a gorilla, but he'd won, though it was likely by default. When the slick survivor finally slammed that grease ball biker's fist into the table, the big ape had passed out from their booze binge. Nick wasn't sure if that happened during the match or after, but he took the victory either way. He barely managed to grab his shirt and his "title" before a charger and a tank decided have at it for the next round. The cheering from all the RSI who were invested in the match only made the pounding in his head worse. He swore he saw a jockey taking bets from the crowd as he rushed out the door to get some fresh air and vomit his victory all over the ground.

So they wanted the loser who didn't puke but passed out, eh? Fine.

"You mean that greasy, vest-wearin' monkey? He's over there on the dance floor, all by himself. Guess his date got tired of his stink." Nick spat. "You want him so bad, go get 'im."

Undeterred, the twins smiled and drew closer still, pressing black and white cheeks against the con man's blushing face.

"Don't act stupid, because we know you aren't. " Pandia said with a no-nonsense voice. She turned his face to hers, crimson eyes boring into his. Nick thought her upset at first, but the smile that crept across her pretty face gave away her ploy at acting serious.

"We meant _you, _you handsome devil. Looking all sweaty and shirtless and sexy as you stood up for your music. That smooth but toned chest puffed out," Selene purred in Nick's ear, slipping a hand into his white jacket to grope the muscles beneath his silk shirt. "Admit it Panny, he's as handsome as papa Bill."

"Sel. _No one's_ as handsome as papa." Pandia said flatly to her sister. "But..." the white beauty paused, staring at the survivor's chiseled features. "He is damn close."

Nick was about to make a comment about a fresh grape being compared to a shriveled raisin, but something in his gut told him that such a remark would _not _be taken well by either of them. Though it was clear they liked him, the twins were fiercely loyal to their adopted parents. And the white witch was definitely harboring a lingering crush on the distinguished, albeit unavailable, war vet.

"C'mon. We won't bite." Pandia teased.

"Not unless you want us to." Selene added, nipping at his ear. "Just a nibble, maybe?"

Nick was sweating bullets. They were playing him like in a game of cards. And he was about to show his hand.

"I can smell his anxiety," Pandia teased.

"That's not anxiety," Selene purred so close the con man could feel the vibration pass through his neck. "That's his sweat or... hmmm..." she paused, drawing in a deep breath through her nose, effectively raising the hairs on Nick's arms, "...something more... _primal," s_he punctuated this by breathing hotly on Nick's ear.

Nick remained silent, his racing mind was loud enough. _"These two women are like prowling tigers about to pounce. But anxiety? No..."_

"Just..." whispered soft, moist, white lips that brushed his ear. A hand fell onto his racing heart, squeezing his pectoral.

_Arousal? Yes._

"One..." A tongue he was sure, ran under his other earlobe followed by the gentle brush of the tip of one's nose.

_Yes..._

"Dance?" They breathed together hotly on his ears.

_Fuck yes._

"Pllleeaaasssee?"

"Alright alright!" Nick about shouted, standing up quickly. Christ he hoped no one could tell he was about to burst through his zipper.

The twins squealed as they jumped up and down excited. Nick groaned for losing his resolve, but felt better about it when he saw the lovely bounce of their victory. He had a hard time deciding between staring at their tits or their asses, all of them jiggling delightfully.

"So... who's first?" he asked tiredly as he extended one hand.

"We are," both twins said together, each grabbing him.

.

.

The jovial celebration lasted well through the afternoon, but as the hours ticked by, several of the guests spent more time sitting or talking then dancing. By the time the sky shifted from a bright blue to a calming orange the party had unofficially come to a close. Several guests began excusing themselves, congratulating the happy couple one more time. Bill and Eris were chatting with Zoey and Louis, all of them having just finished their last dance for the evening.

"Congratu...ulshuns. Kernl Overbick," said a gruff voice as a massive hand patted his shoulder.

"Thanks Carl," Bill turned to the tipsy sounding charger, who looked like he'd just crashed into a wall the way he was staggering and slurring. Pvt. Davis was supporting her love under his smaller arm. Though small by comparison, the female private was no slouch.

"U too Matrun," Carl said with a lopsided smile to Eris.

"C'mon honey, time for you to sleep off that booze," Pvt. Davis said faux scolding.

"Yeah... can't walk strght..." he mumbled. Pvt. Davis got a chuckle out of that. Carl's massive arm made walking straight a challenge even when he _wasn't _inebriated.

"Don't do anything we wouldn't do," Bill said as the happy couple headed off. He laughed when Pvt. Davis mumbled something about her date likely passing out before they could even try to do "anything."

Speaking of which...

The handsome war vet felt a wing envelop him from one side, his wife gently drawing him closer as she surrounded him with her love and midnight feathers. He could get lost in those limpid amber eyes that stared at him with utter love and admiration, so much that he'd actually overlooked the delightful birds-eye view down her wedding dress.

"Biillll," Eris sang pleasantly, twirling her hair as she rested her head on his shoulder. The war vet stiffened as she whispered something unheard.

"Go on, we'll cover for you," Louis said, hugging Zoey close.

"Yeah, its your wedding night and your room is right across the hall from ours, so we have _no idea_ where you are," Zoey giggled with a slight hiccup. She too had put back a few more than prudent, but she was a happy drunk.

"Thaank yooou both." Eris said, not releasing her lover as she turned to face her friends.

"For what?" Louis asked.

"Everything," Bill said, smiling.

Louis and Zoey nodded as the happy couple made their way through the thinning crowd, stopping only briefly to exchange a passing greeting as they hurried off.

Louis cast his gaze across the thinned crowd, which had now become small pockets of people. Francis was talking with Alexis and Isabella. The Latina RSI looked embarrassed as Alexis hugged Francis and her with both arms, bringing them together. The smoker was forced to kneel so she could be close to the same height as the two reunited lovers. Francis looked genuinely happy with Alexis, but Louis felt bad for Isabella since it was clear her feelings for the biker were more than just friendly. Talk about a love triangle. Then again, maybe _that _was why Francis looked so thrilled.

Coach was practically being dragged around the floor by the boomette chef. True to her word, she could dance all night, and she didn't falter a bit when the burly ex football coach finally fell into her arms from exhaustion. They made a silly, but cute, couple.

Ellis and his new friend Jade, the huntress who quite literally fell into his arms, were long gone. Louis chuckled the way the excited young man introduced the shy RSI to everyone. He'd slipped up and said girlfriend to him by mistake, and judging by the elated look in the huntress' green eyes, it was clear that both of them had developed feelings for one another. Ah, the carefree passion of young love. They were probably off somewhere getting to know each other better.

Speaking of young love, it looked like Bill and Eris' adopted daughters had made a new "friend" as well. Hard to believe, given Nick's general pessimistic attitude, but perhaps they saw something positive hidden beneath it. The danced him nearly to death as he was slumped in a chair. The twins were reluctantly bidding him farewell as they too decided to retire for the evening.

Rochelle had been hard up the entire evening, and Louis fully expected to see her sitting alone, but she was chatting up Sgt. Powers and that RSI tank behind him. It certainly put size into perspective. Rochelle's petite form was dwarfed by the burly sergeant, who in turn looked small compared to the hulking RSI standing behind him. The trio was close enough that Louis could vaguely make out what they were saying. The petite reporter had taken notice of the tank drooling and quickly drew a napkin, wiping it from his chest. While most tanks lacked a lower jaw, this one still had his, but apparently didn't have good control over it.

"He's a big one isn't he?" Rochelle asked as she wiped away the drool. "I like big muscles."

The tank grunted and tried to smile, but Powers spoke up.

"'Is name's Frank, and yes 'es a bloody Goliath." Powers said in his cockney British accent. "We make ah right good team out dere," he said as he popped a mini-BLT cracker hors d'oeuvre into his mouth. Frank grunted and nodded.

Rochelle grinned devilishly. "I was referring to you, but Frank here's definitely got some guns," the reporter said slyly as she slipped into Powers' personal space. "Wanna help me write an _in-depth _report on how good a double-team you two are?"

Powers instantly sucked air in surprise and drew the rest of his mouthful into his windpipe. The sergeant was trying to cough, but no sound was coming out.

"Oh my God he's choking!" Rochelle cried.

Frank's eyes widened, remembering back when learning how to eat was a challenge. He'd almost choked to death on a piece of steak, but Sgt. Powers had slapped him hard on the back, causing him to spit it up.

"_Frank choke on food. Powers help Frank. Slap on back hard. Frank cough and breathe again."_

"Grrawgh! Frank help!" The tank growled.

Rochelle's eyes went wide, and an instant later she'd dove into a roll off to one side.

Powers saw the shadow fall over his head, but never stood a chance. Frank's massive hand slapped him on the back, sending him off his feet, flying end over end, before nearly bowling over Louis and Zoey who'd barely dodged the human projectile.

The two survivors stared down at the stunned U.K. mercenary who was flat on his back. Powers groaned and spat up the piece of his half-chewed food onto his chest.

"Rrgh... thanks Frank," Powers groaned dryly as he sat up. "Blimey, someone gimmie a plastah."

Louis and Zoey tried to help him up, but Rochelle and Frank were already rushing over.

"Frank do good?" The tank grunted.

"Frank do _very _good. Rochelle very happy," the biracial survivor chuckled.

The tank chortled. "Frank like Rochelle."

"I think you need a good stiff drink after that." Rochelle said, extending her hand to the stunned soldier.

"I reckon I do..."

Sgt. Powers picked himself up and the shards of his dignity with a little help from Rochelle. And with that, the three walked away to find some booze.

Louis and Zoey both shook their heads. Would things _ever _stop being so crazy?

"Think our wedding day will be just as memorable?" Zoey asked with a lopsided grin.

"It'd be hard to top this. But then... I've said that before," Louis said, throwing an arm around his love.

.

.

The wooden door to the apartment bedroom practically flew open, revealing a queen-sized bed set against the wall with a pair of nightstands on either side bearing mismatched lamps. Various framed photos of the happy couple and their friends hung on the wall above the headboard. To the right was a door that led to the bathroom, and to the left was a large window that overlooked the town from fifteen stories up. Sheer curtains were drawn closed, but the orange rays of the setting sun still cast their glow upon the carpeted floor.

Bill staggered through, carrying his pleasantly tipsy wife over the threshold. Even with her wings folded tight against her back, the war vet was having trouble keeping his grip, though that had more to do with Eris giggling, squirming, and whispering all the naughty things she was going to do to her chivalrous hubby. The winged siren had tried alcohol for the first time today, and it was clear she'd drank more than she could handle. Bill couldn't help smile at that thought: "More than she could handle" was only _two_ glasses of wine.

As they crossed the room to their bed, the old vet's grip finally broke and Eris tumbled out of his arms with a mirthful laugh onto the soft mattress.

Bill had already kicked off his shoes, removed his dress blues jacket and eagerly tossed it aside, approaching his lover with a lust-starved hunger. They were accustomed to making love nearly every day, but with the success of project Neo Zoi, practically all of their time was divided between helping Dr. Allan, tending to the RSI, or handling other day-to-day activities around the military base. By the end of every day, the two heroes were completely exhausted. And when the wedding was on the horizon, what little free time they had left was spent planning and preparing.

And then there was their two "daughters."

The twins, tenacious and energetic as they were, could hardly leave them alone. Bill and Eris enjoyed spending time with Pandia and Selene, or as much as a mother and father could with their grown up kids. However, with their quarters right across the hall, Bill couldn't count the number of times they "had a bad dream" or found some other excuse to barge in, particularly when he and Eris were about to have some private time, or when they were already a good hour into their "private time." In the beginning it seemed harmless enough, but as they progressed he wondered if there was more deliberate intent behind their nocturnal invasions.

But that didn't matter now, because they _finally _had some much needed alone time together.

The wedding night by tradition was the moment when two lovers who'd saved their virginity would finally give it to each other. It had been so long for Bill and Eris, it felt as exciting as their first time.

Bill knelt on the foot of the bed, gently pulling his wife into his arms. Still in her wedding dress and still indescribably beautiful. The war vet was going to savor every inch of her. Oh, he would devour her. Kiss and lick and suck on every inch of her body before ravaging her to the melting point. To hear his beloved scream in ecstasy would be music to his ears.

Eris lifted her veil, bright amber eyes agleam with anticipation as her lover pulled her into a sitting position. Her heart was thudding, her mind racing. The wine was making her head spin, but it turned her passionate fire for Bill into a blaze that threatened to consume her. God she couldn't wait to be alone with him, it had been almost unbearable during the reception. She'd nearly pulled him into a far away changing tent and offered herself to him right then and there. Mind refocusing on the present, the siren's eager hands slid under her lover's t-shirt to pull it over his head. She cooed at his physique. Toned and muscular, so much that his skin was pulled tight over his chest and abs so that he didn't look anywhere close to his autumn years. She couldn't wait to welcome him into her. To envelop him. The moment they would become one.

But she would savor every kiss, every touch, every caress before hand.

Their lips joined tenderly, tongues dancing as gracefully as the two had done on the dance floor. He slid his hands into the top of her dress, the sides of his fingertips pinching and pulling his lover's erect nipples. The woman in white moaned, her eyes opening only for a second as they rolled into the back of her head before shutting again. Their kiss broke and she gently pushed away from her soldier.

"Biiilll," she said, deliberately singing his name. "I love you so much."

The vet was silenced by a pair of lace-gloved fingers before he could affirm his own feelings.

"Sooo please, close your eyes?" Eris asked.

The war veteran closed them, anxious for what would come next. He felt the mattress lift as she stood from the bed. His breathing quickened at the rustling sound of her removing her dress before it hit the floor. The sound of a few more articles of clothing to remove, then...

"Open."

The first thing he saw was the bright orange glow of the setting sun through their window. The curtains were open, but the sheer lining behind them was still closed. Standing in front of the window, off center, with her arms raised above her head as though she were stretching, was a silhouette of his gorgeous goddess standing in profile. Her breasts were bared, erect nipples jutting out like two hard stones. The curve of her bosom was defined further by her toned stomach, gray skin kissed with orange sunlight. And just below that tummy was her garter belt that matched her feathers, a black lace treasure which clipped to sheer black stockings. The small, groomed tuft of white hair that covered her mound was glowing from the orange sunlight.

"My God..." Bill whispered.

Eris slowly turned towards the window, continuing the show. Her wings extended parallel with her back, reaching their full span. She stood with her feet apart and the upside down heart shape of her ass was perfectly back lit, a ray of orange peeking from between her legs, outlining her sex.

"Touch me," she said.

As though in a trance, Bill slowly stood from the bed and approached his lover. Her hair was still up, baring her graceful neck. His hands slowly ran over her shoulders then down her smooth back, the line of her spine just barely visible, indicating her slender figure with just the right amount of body fat. His fingertips traced into the two cute dimples above her buttocks before cupping the two full cheeks. He gave the soft derriere a gentle squeeze and kissed his lover's neck.

The siren's wings fluttered the way one shivers with goosebumps. She bit her lip and slid her own hands behind her to feel her lover's bare skin, but frowned when she reached his buckled pants.

"Those _need_ to come off," she purred.

"Be my guest," Bill whispered, running his hands back over her wings.

Eris' fingers worked into unbuckling his belt, but between his massaging fingers dancing over her wings and the distracting proximity of his clothed bulge against her backside, it was taking longer than usual. After a few more seconds she finally managed to unbuckle the troublesome belt, but then there was his pants.

"Having trouble?" He asked, sliding his hands as far as he could over her wings, until his arms were fully outstretched along them. He dipped his fingertips into the feathers, gently tickling and rustling.

"Yeeesss..." Eris cooed, losing her resolve. Her wings were incredibly sensitive and whenever Bill touched them, arcs of electricity ran up and down her body. She nearly ripped the snap of his pants open, and when she pulled the flap apart the zipper practically flew off as she pushed his pants and boxers down. She sighed happily when she felt the hot released confine of her lover's clothing poking her rear. She pressed her ass against him, forcing his manhood between her legs and furthering her teasing.

The war vet chuckled and flexed his muscles, nudging the gray goddess' love button as he slid between the engorged nether lips. Eris moaned and gracefully lifted her arms to undo the bobby pins in her hair, allowing her platinum tresses to spill over her shoulders. Bill slid his hands beneath her arms and cupped her breasts, a tricky though not impossible maneuver with her wings splayed. His chest pressed against her back and wings, which fluttered in time with the siren's racing heartbeat.

Eris slowly backed them both away from the window, towards the bed. And as she turned around, Bill reluctantly withdrew from the tight space between her legs, his cock shining from the coating of juices he'd gathered there. They drew together again, chest against chest, and Eris shivered at the feeling of Bill's wet manhood as it slid between her legs in that teasing manner once more. God it was maddening. He was so close, but so far. The siren cupped her lover's face, standing toe to toe with him.

"Biiilll... I want you."

The war vet chuckled and bent at the knees, preparing to grant his lover's request.

Eris smiled and held him back. "Not like that. At least... not yet."

The gray goddess kissed her soldier tenderly, slowly planting a line down his neck, crossing over his pecs, then descending with a slow down his abs and over his happy trail, continuing her path but changing direction as she traced his length all the way to the tip. He quivered in response, bumping her nose as he flexed.

Eris smirked and breathed hotly over him, licking a few more times like one would lick a lollypop. Bill groaned and clenched his fists, trying to resist the urge to thrust forward and gag his love. He tried nudging her lips, but she would smile and let his manhood slide to one side, running her tongue along it instead.

"You tease..." Bill groaned.

"I tease to..." Eris started, but instead of saying "please" she took him into her mouth, swirling her talented tongue around his shaft. She stopped about halfway, then breathed deeply through her nose as though in preparation. Before Bill could process what was happening, his loving wife was taking him deeper than she ever had before.

"Oh Christ!" Bill groaned and ran his fingers into his lover's platinum hair as she continued swallowing him. Eris was trying to bottom out, her throat clenching as his cock head nudged past her uvula. Her lips dragged over his length, about to touch his hilt. Bill tilted his head back, nearly falling over. Eris had _never _deep-throated him before, but she was only a few inches away from her goal. When her nose actually poked his waist she let out a throaty purr of satisfaction, and the rumbling vibration nearly caused the war vet to lose it right then and there. His golden-eyed goddess pulled off about halfway then slid forward again, a little faster this time. She kept this pattern but increased her tempo, moving faster to engulf him each time until Bill set the pace for her, his hands driving her face into his crotch. Eris grunted and kept her breathing steady, grabbing her lover's ass as she wantonly encouraged this primal face fucking. It was only a few minutes before the war vet roared and shoved into his lover's mouth, pulling her hair as he came. The siren gurgled as the first shot went straight down and coated her aching throat, the hot gooey liquid felt soothing after such rough fellatio. She moaned and pulled back so Bill's second and third spurts filled her mouth instead. Her tongue squished his seed around the roof of her mouth, the taste driving her so wild she swore she could feel herself dripping on the floor. The sated siren moaned and lazily suckled the still quivering meat stick, smearing his cum all over it before finally pulling away and staring up at her stunned lover.

"Sweetheart... " Bill panted as he plopped onto the bed. Jesus but she'd drained him good. "That was... increcible."

"I loooove yoou Biilll," Eris sang as she rose and stood before him. "I waant you to be haaappy."

"So long as I have you, I always will be," the war vet replied, pulling her by the hand as he scooted back onto the bed. The sexy siren shivered as straddled his hips, sitting with him. They embraced and kissed passionately, Eris' wings wrapping around them both. She moaned sultrily and ground her mound against him. Bill could feel the soft moist nether lips of his lover drooling over his softening member. She'd drained him dry with that incredible oral sex, but in about ten minutes he would be ready for another round.

In the meantime...

Eris yelped when Bill suddenly swung them both down and deposited the gray goddess on her back. Her cry turned to a moan when Bill smashed his lips onto hers. Her hands grabbed at his bare back, filed claws lightly scraping at him.

"It's my turn," the war vet said, breaking the kiss.

The gray goddess sighed happily and spread her wings across the cool mattress as her lover began his own oral descent. He traced with the tip of his tongue down her chest, between her luscious mountains. The gray goddess actually whimpered when he didn't stop to suckle her breasts.

"Sorry honey, where are my manners?" Bill chuckled, mid kiss.

"Wha?" Eris asked absently, still lost in her lover's tender affection.

Bill answered by supporting a breast in one hand so he could suckle the hardening dark gray nipple atop it. He took a moment to lick two fingers on his other hand so that her other nipple wouldn't be left out. Eris cooed and rubbed her husband's head as he suckled her breasts, and the way he'd wet his fingers it almost felt like two pairs of lips were pinching and pulling at them. He continued lovingly suckling her, switching between her breasts a few times before finally bringing them both together to try and suckle them both at once. Eris smirked at his zeal. Her breasts were large enough that it was difficult to keep them together with her on her back, but that wouldn't stop her loving hubby from trying.

"I love your breasts," the hungry war vet said, taking a pause, "but I love this even more."

The gray goddess sucked in a breath of surprise as a finger dipped into her honeypot. She was so caught up in her lover's oral affections that she never noticed one of his hands had left her bosom to wander further south. Pearly white teeth bit her lower dark gray lip as a throaty moan emanated from her core The cool air touched her wet nipples like an ice cube as her lover ceased devouring her breasts and licked slowly down her tummy. Her hands gripped at the bed sheets when his hot breath fell over her mound. Her lover was gently kissing around it, licking the sides of her labia, even as far out as to the crease between her leg and her crotch, but never venturing quite close enough to the center of her sexual frustrations.

"Biiilll... pllleeaaasee," she moaned shamelessly, trying to nudge his head to her center with her legs.

"Please what?"

"Oh don't be like thaaaaaahhh!," Eris cried suddenly, twisting the bed sheets as her lover removed his fingers and sealed his lips over hers. The war vet licked around her edges while his upper lip nudged the engorged love button. Her juices were flowing freely but he still stuck his tongue as deep as it could go, as though trying to lap up every bit of her.

The gray goddess moaned loudly and pulled harder on the sheets. Her lover's tongue was incredible, and it reminded her of their very first time together when he introduced her to the intimacies of oral pleasure. She sat up a bit so she could watch him and so that her wings could stretch again. Her lover's face was buried in her sex and partially hidden beneath her ample bosom, but she could imagine the look of concentration on his face as he pleased her. She wanted him to eat her hard, to lick and nip, and even bite until she flooded his mouth with her naughty juice.

Bill hummed while pinching her lips with his own, the vibration sending goosebumps rising all over his lover's writhing body. Then he answered her plea and bit her pearl, just hard enough to get her to cry out, tossing her head back and half-flapping her wings once out of reflex.

Bill chuckled. It was rare that his sexy siren was ever so caught up that she beat her wings, since doing so often blew the pictures off the wall, or knocked over a lamp, and almost always swatted him in the face. Still he loved it, because even a half-flap meant he was driving her wild.

Eris could barely sit up by now. She was squeezing her own luscious mountains repeatedly, pulling at the nipples between her fingers while she watched herself being eaten by her "starving" husband. Her ragged breathing grew faster, every lick and nip bringing her closer to the edge.

With a melodious cry, Eris squeezed her breasts hard and hitched her legs around Bill, pulling him into her as she came. The war vet continued licking and sucking her flowing juices, occasionally nipping the gray goddess' engorged clit, causing her to spasm.

"Oh... Biiiillll," Eris sighed in melody, finally releasing him. How she loved his talented tongue, and his tender affection when he licked her clean. She was just about to drift into a gentle lull of relaxation, but was suddenly face to face with her lover, his manhood thick and pulsing as it pointed right at her.

"Is thaaat foor meeee?" She sang cutely, sitting forward to touch him.

Bill said nothing, instead crawling over his lover as he lay her down. He kissed her passionately, nudging against the sultry siren's soaked entrance. With a moment of suspenseful hesitation, Eris held her breath.

"All for you," he said.

A feeling of heat, pulsing in rhythm, filled her up completely and drew a long moan from her once pursed lips. Eris loved that first thrust, for the warmth and sudden fullness it gave her, just as she knew her man loved that feeling of being surrounded by her hot tight walls, nearly forcing his way into her. So rough. So erotic. She clenched around him, muscles squeezing everywhere around him. Her legs lifted reflexively, ready to hold him in and never let go.

"Ugh... yeeesssss Biilll." Eris moaned as Bill bottomed out, his eager cock poking her cervix. "Looove meee."

The war vet held her close and began a slow, gentle pumping rhythm. He loved being rough and raw with his goddess, but if she wanted gentle lovemaking to start, that was just as good to him. Every thrust he could feel his lover's nether lips practically sucking him in, then dragging on him as he withdrew. Her lovely breasts shook with every thrust, and a quiet gasp escaped her parted lips. The amber windows to her soul were wide open, staring into his steel eyes. This was worth the wait, even if it was overdue. They weren't just having sex, they were making love, and the fact that it was their wedding night made the entire situation that much more intense. It was so much that Bill couldn't help but kiss his wonderful wife.

Eris' amber eyes shut as she kissed her war hero, their tongues entwined. The buzz from the wine had worn off and her mind was clear as crystal again. Every sensation was magnified to the gray goddess. Her lover's muscular chest pressed into her breasts, their racing hearts beating together. She could feel the thick satisfaction of her husband filling her over and over. Her engorged pearl slid over his slickened cock, bringing the rise to her impending orgasm. She ran her hands up his sides, over his broad shoulders, then down the twin pillars of muscle that were his arms on either side of her. She drew her feet up his legs, slowly bringing them together to hook over his ass. The sexy siren purred in the sweaty survivor's ear, encouraging him to increase the tempo. The "thwack" of their hips slapping together was turning the goddess on even more. She panted in time with the rhythm, her juices practically gushing by this point. Within moments, Eris cried out in melody as she came. She practically drew blood when she dragged her trimmed claws down her lover's back.

"Biiillll," Eris half-growled, half-panted, sounding more animal that human at that moment. Though she'd already come, it was just a warm up. Rather than being sated, her lusts were even further inflamed, set afire by the carnality of their act. Not to mention Bill hadn't come yet, no doubt because he was on his second round.

"Yes sweetheart?" Bill asked coyly, still atop his lover.

In the next instant, Eris had flipped them both over, she now on top of her surprised soldier. She purred in her throat, rubbing his length against her entrance as she hovered over him.

"I'm going to send yoouu to heeaveen," she sang.

The survivor watched as the "infected" slowly took him inside, the normally puffy white garden that adorned her nether lips was now matted down with their sweat and cum. She cupped a breast in one hand, her other slowly fingering the fleshy pearl between her legs as she sat on him. She'd just come but she still felt so incredibly tight. Bill could feel her grind her ass against him as she flexed, squeezing around the thick muscle that filled her so perfectly. He must've been making one heck of a face, for his wife giggled and teasingly trailed her her hand up her taught gray tummy, leaving a shining trail that tapered off below her belly button. Her hand joined the other, both now squeezing her large gray breasts, pulling the hardened nipples between her fingers. She began to bounce, just like their first time when she wanted her lover to feel as wonderful as she did. Bill slid his hands along her smooth thighs to find her hips, holding on to her as though she would float away, but matching her bounce by raising his ass. The siren bit her lip and cooed, trying to maintain her balance.

Much like their first time together, they weren't going to last long. Bill was leaning on his elbows and bouncing his sexy siren in his lap, who in turn was shamelessly pounding herself onto him. Eris cried out and opened her wings a little more with each hard thrust, until they were fully extended, nearly touching the walls. She was so close, and the way her soldier was pulsing inside her, he was close too.

"Fuck! Eris... gonna..." Bill gasped, eyes clenched as he fucked her harder and faster. When he opened his eyes, all he saw was his lover's jutted out breasts and her chin. She was arching back and staring at the ceiling, and the war vet couldn't see her wings, but swore they were fully extended. She must've pulled them behind her back.

"Cooomee in meee, Biiill," Eris cried, still staring at the ceiling as the intensity of her impending orgasm overwhelmed her, the tips of her fully extended wings actually touching behind her back, like a bird about to flap.

The war vet roared, his fingers digging into her flesh as his cock exploded. He twitched as each hot rope of his climax flooded his lover's wanton womb.

"Aaaahhhh!" Eris convulsed and came in a gush, screaming so loud that Bill's vision blurred for a moment. Her cry of passion went higher and higher in pitch, to the point it no longer made sound the human ear could detect.

And when that now inaudible cry of passion reached its apex, Eris came _again _and flapped her wings so hard that she actually lifted herself and Bill a foot off the bed.

They both came crashing down, gasping and holding each other tight. Bill felt the soft feathers of his lover surround them both as they stared each other in the eyes. There were no words to describe what had just taken place. Oh they'd made love before, they'd had sex countless times, they'd fucked like beasts in heat too, but this... this was just...

"In.. fucking... credible," Bill panted.

"Yees you weeree," Eris sang.

"I love you Eris," Bill sighed, gently stroking her cheek.

Eris giggled and nipped his nose. "I loove yooouu Biiiill." She yawned and nuzzled him. "I'm soooo sleeepppy."

The tired war vet couldn't argue with that. He answered her with a yawn and slid his hand over her rear, gently massaging them as sleep faded their world to black.

There was no doubt, it was one in-fucking-credible night.

They wouldn't know just how much until the next morning.

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A/N: I swear I'm going to finish this story. Swear to God. In the meantime, I hope this was worth the wait. Please review!


	24. After Hourz Adventures

_**Legal Disclaimer: Characters that belong to Valve are Valve's, and characters that belong to Xmodius are Xmodius'. If you want a complete listing, check every other dang chapter to see who owns what, because I'm tired of all this legal rambling and... wait? What? Sorry there's an attorney over my shoulder and... well yes I was going to skip it this time because... oh come on! I STILL have to say it? And what if I don't?... Rrrggh... Oh fine! **_

_**Valve owns: Bill, Zoey, Louis, Francis, Rochelle, Coach, Ellis, Nick, Hunter, Smoker, Jockey, Spitter, Boomer, Charger, Witch, and Tank. They also own Left 4 Dead.**_

_**Tripwire owns: Sgt. Powers in name only.**_

_**Xmodius owns everything else that cannot be claimed by the aforementioned parties.**_

_**There... are you happy? No you can't have a cookie, now leave me alone so I can get to the authors notes. What? Oh yeah, the mature content warning first... gah.**_

_Mature Content Warning: This story contains violence and sexual themes, so if you're under 18, piss off. Just kidding, I don't care if you're under 18 and you stay. However I'll be really upset if you blow the whistle on me because you were caught reading naughty stuff. Suck it up and blame yourself, not the author._

Author's Notes: 12/06/2011. I really should've put the publish update date in these notes in the past, but better late than never, right? A month since an update, and yet again this chapter is split because I simply haven't had the time to devote to the story with the holidays. So yeah once again, more coming, not over yet but we're close, so on and so forth. Thanks again to everyone who's reviewed and a special thanks to FF member and fan, Inki Veins who helped me brainstorm some of this chapter's happenings. She's an awesome author and you should check out her stories, particularly Prey Play and the sequel Pray Ploy. She's an incredible writer who easily trumps my descriptive capabilities.

On with the show!

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Chapter 23 – After Hours Adventures

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"G'night Francis."

"Night Zoey. Night Louis," the biker said to his friends on the dance floor. The last of the guests were leaving now.

"So is everything okay now with you and Alexis?" Zoey asked, hugging onto Louis' arm.

"Uh, I don't know. She said we had a lot to talk about." The biker groaned and pulled at his collar. His tie was untied a while ago, but he still felt tight and constricted in this damn penguin suit. "When a woman says 'we need to talk' its never good news."

"Aw c'mon Francis, be positive." Louis said, patting the worried survivor on the shoulder. "I'm sure it'll all be for the best."

"Right, white-collar. Wish me luck."

"Good luck 'big boy'." Zoey chimed in.

Francis stiffened for a second then gave a half laugh and tugged at his collar again. Damn these dress clothes.

"Thanks guys," the biker said, just about dragging his feet like a forlorn man as he headed to the apartment buildings.

"Dead man walking!" Louis shouted after Francis, who only answered with a half-hearted middle finger behind his back. The systems analyst couldn't help but laugh.

"So, you ready to go?" Zoey asked, drawing his face to hers. "We have some family practicing to do."

"Family practicing?" Louis asked.

The college girl giggled and whispered something in the dark man's ear, who perked up immediately.

"I'm 'up' for it if you are," Louis said, wrapping his arm around his lady love.

"All night, stud," Zoey purred, sliding her arm around Louis' waist as they too retired for the evening.

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"I can't believe you declined to invite Nick up to our room," came a frustrated, muffled voice from behind a closed door that suddenly opened, revealing a small, tidy studio apartment with a sizable fold out couch. A kitchenette was off to the right of the entrance, and the bathroom door off to the left.

"Trust me sister, it's for the best," Pandia said soothingly behind Selene as they walked in. "This way he's left thinking about what could be in store for him."

"For the best? He'll probably go to bed and "vent" while thinking about it, but next morning he'll blame his arousal all on that lousy boxed wine he was drinking." The black witch huffed.

"You poor naughty girl," the white witch teased coyly and rubbed her sister's shoulders, moving in close to smell her scent through the platinum tresses.

Selene shrugged her off. "This 'poor naughty girl' is going to take a long shower to cool off." And with that, she opened the bathroom door in one fluid motion before slamming it shut behind her.

Pandia chuckled. Her sexually frustrated sister would be busy in there for quite a while.

Just enough time so she could enjoy the show.

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The green-eyed huntress paced nervously near the edge of a the roof of a restored apartment building, the whipping winds of the evening tousling her long hair that flowed freely with her hoodie down. She typically kept her hair tied in a bun, one less thing to cause wind resistance when she took to jumping, but during her time waiting she was growing antsy, and at one point taken her hair down to play with it while she awaited her "date."

Would he show? Sure he would. Then why couldn't he just come straight up with her? Granted she'd taken her own "route" by leaping in an ascending zig zag between this building and the next to ascend to the roof, but she would've happily taken the stairs with him if they were coming up together. He said he wanted to get changed, but that was over an hour ago. Surely he didn't just use that as an excuse to get out of it.

"Stoppit," she chastised herself, sighing wearily as she looked over the town from twenty stories up. The sun's fading orange fire was slowly smoldering from the black of dusk that threatened to snuff it completely. She turned towards another highrise building just across the street. She could make out the familiar glows of her fellow RSI that inhabited some of the rooms, as well as the different aura of the uninfected humans.

Her eyes glazed over for a moment at the sight of what appeared to be two females, an RSI smoker and a human, who were locked in a passionate, loving embrace. She longed for Ellis to hug her like that, to feel his muscular arms around her. How she wanted to kiss him again; his lips had the subtle sweet taste of cloves. The huntress wondered if the rest of him tasted as good.

Jade turned away from the scene, face a heated blush before she shook her head to snap out of it. She was no voyeur, and it wasn't like her to get all dreamy and lovestruck. A groan/growl escaped her lips; things had progressed more rapidly than she'd ever imagined, between falling in his arms, the kiss, then him talking to her about everything and taking her all around to meet his friends. It was almost like meeting family. It made her nervous, not because things could potentially burn out faster, but because she was afraid of what her foolish heart would lead her to do.

The sound of a metal door opening near the center of the roof brought the startled huntress spinning around and dropping to a crouch, leg muscles tensed and ready to send her airborne.

"Jade? Ya there?"

Ellis shut the metal door behind him. He wore black work boots, blue jeans, and a yellow t-shirt that said, "Bullshifters." A blue and white ball cap covered his full head of hair and shielded his innocent looking eyes from a sun that was rapidly setting.

The green eyed huntress' felt her leg muscles relax. Her heart, however, was still racing.

"Over here," she called in a slightly hoarse voice before trying to clear it as she hastily rose to her feet. She was surprised she didn't smell his scent first. The young mechanic smiled and approached her, looking even more attractive in his casual wear than his tux. As he drew closer, the huntress detected a hint of cologne that she'd never smelled before.

"Sorry ah took s'long," Ellis said, removing his hat and holding it in front of his heart like a southern gent. "But ah wanted ta clean mahself up a bit firs'."

"You didn't have to do that," the huntress nearly mumbled, her clawed hands clasped behind her back.

"Why? Ah thought..." he started, placing his cap back on his head.

"I... I like the way you smell." the green-eyed RSI replied, suddenly staring at her feet. "Sorry, I'm sure that's strange."

"Shucks ah don think yer strange Jade. Kinda relieved, cuz here ah thought ah was the only one hung up on smells," Ellis said. "Whatever perfume yer wearin', suits you perfect."

The huntress looked up with a smile, glowing emerald eyes twinkling like the stars that were beginning to make their appearance on the opposite side of the horizon.

"I'm.. not wearing any."

"Uh, ahm sorry ah put on cologne." Ellis mumbled as he tucked his hands into his pockets, looking down as well at the awkward silence that seemed to grow between them. "I'll go wash it off." He said, turning for the door. He only made it a few steps before he heard a voice that was less than an inch away from his ear.

"Please stay Ellis." Jade whispered, so close she could taste him. "Unless you don't want to..."

The country boy turned around with a big smile, face to face with the shy huntress. "Wild horses couldn't drag me away. Not even Keith's human slingshot stunt," Ellis said as Jade led him to the edge of the roof. "Did ah ever tell ya 'bout that?"

Jade giggled as they both sat at the edge of the building, feet dangling as they watched the setting sun. "No, but I'm all ears."

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The sound of a running shower filled the bathroom, a pleasant acoustic prelude to the eventual gathering cloud of steam. It would take some time for the water to heat to temperature, but that would give Selene some time to warm herself by thinking about her and Panny's dancing with Nick.

Her somewhat soured mood was already dissipating at the thought of the handsome former con man and the way he so effortlessly danced between them. In the end they'd worn him out, but he had surprising stamina. Selene actually felt a little short of breath and her heart was thudding in her chest when they'd finally called it quits.

What else could he do that would make her breathless have her heart racing all night long?

She smiled and hummed to herself as she unzipped her short shorts, dropping them to her ankles as her imagination flooded with ideas. She then drew her arms over her head and removed her mid drift showing t-shirt. A sigh of relief escaped her lips when she unhooked her bra clasp and the undergarment fell to the floor. While not quite as well endowed as her mother, Selene always felt brassieres were too constricting. The support they offered was unnecessary since her breasts were perky and full on their own. And the fabric always irritated her sensitive nipples. Even panties seemed to chaff. The pitch black witch would've preferred no undies at all, but then she'd never know if the fans were enchanted by her singing or by her "assets." Especially wearing such a short skirt and standing above the audience on a stage.

Then again, a rock star had to be sexy... and wild. Unhinged.

Maybe she _would _ditch the underwear next gig.

She giggled to herself as she drew her panties down to her ankles, thinking about what Nick would say if he were to walk in on her just like this, bent over, round ass bared and in the air. The thought sent shivers up her spine and a made her jet black nipples stand on end. She licked her fingers and gently pulled on the erect buds, imagining his lips pinching them. Her body trembled in response; she couldn't wait to "play" with him and her sister.

The twins had never agreed on any man to share as a lover, for whichever one liked him, the other did not. And for a while that was fine, since they always had each other. They knew each others bodies like their own, but eventually they both found themselves longing for a man to join them. However they were both very selective, since neither of them would place a man before their own relationship. They were sisters, through and through. Whoever they picked would not only have to be equally attractive to both of them, but that man would also have to understand the sisters were a package deal. And when Nick danced with the two of them, practically exhausting himself just to give them both enough attention, they knew they'd picked a winner.

Oh yes, the possibilities that opened up were simply mouth-watering.

One black, claw-trimmed hand reluctantly let go of the breast it was pleasing and passed between the shower curtain and the wall, feeling the water had reached perfect temperature. This hot shower was going to feel so good. Maybe she'd spend a little time "warming herself up." She wanted so badly to invite Nick up to their room, but Pandia was aggravatingly correct when she said to play things out slowly. Though they both had a lustful drive, neither of them were sluts. No sense in starting a bad reputation now.

Still, she was so horny she could fuck a hairbrush handle. The shower massager would have to do for now.

She was just about to step in when she heard a familiar moan from outside the door.

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* * *

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An RSI smoker and her sponsor were locked in an embrace that was lovingly deceptive, but as the two separated, the true tension in the air came forth again.

"Isabella you need to go," Alexis said, letting go of her estranged lover and urging her towards the door.

"No madre," The smoker said, standing firm and a good couple feet taller than her sponsor. "Not until I know you're going to tell him the truth."

"Why do you care?" Alexis mumbled dismissively. She immediately regretted it though, for the Latina's eyes were watering and her fists were clenched.

"That's not fair, madre," she about cried. "I told you how I feel about him. You're so damn lucky to have his love, and you act like its nothing. I'd give _anything_ to have him on my arm. I'd give my climbing ability for just one night with him!"

"You want a night with him, go for it. I won't stop you," Alexis said casually, a cold stare in her eyes.

"You never told me you had a boyfriend when _we _were lovers." Isabella hissed, refocusing on the subject at hand.

"At the time I didn't. I didn't even know Francis was still alive," Alexis sighed.

"That's not an excuse!" Isabella fumed. "Your heart belonged to him, and you said you loved me."

"I did and do love you Izzy. I can love more than one person, just like you can." Alexis said calmly. The smoker was quiet for a moment, as though taking those words close to heart. Perhaps too close.

"But what does it matter what you and I did?" Alexis said trying to dismiss the argument outright. "I told you what we did wasn't serious, we were just... having fun."

"That's a lie and you know it. And what if Francis decided to 'just have fun' the same way you did? With another lover?" Alexis' "daughter" said coolly.

Alexis flinched at the thought but remained silent. The biker was on his way up so she could explain the scene that had taken place when she interrupted him and Izzy dancing. She still couldn't think of a clever enough lie to keep herself from looking a liar and insanely jealous. But if her "daughter" persisted, she would be forced into a corner and she doubted Francis would want to stay after he heard the truth.

"Perhaps _I _could 'just have fun' with him?" Isabella said tauntingly to her madre, a defiant smirk on her pretty face. "You know how close his face was to _these_?" The buxom smoker gestured to her ample assets. She undid a button on her catering shirt, showing off even more of her cleavage

The ebony R.N. only rolled her eyes at her "daughter's" game, one that she herself had taught her. Still, the R.N.'s emotions were about to burst from her eyes in a watery explosion.

Like a damn during a storm, Alexis maintained herself, despite the growing pressure. "You want his face between your tits, go get him." She said smoothly.

Isabella stomped one foot in frustration. Madre knew how to irritate her with that cold attitude. That prideful, false aloofness!

"Damn it Madre! I love you!"

"I love you too Izzy."

"And I think I love Francis." Isabella continued.

Alexis flinched again.

"And I know _you _love Francis. And... and I..."

"You what? You want us all to have some three-way love in?" Alexis said mockingly. Another defensive move of hers, but it still struck home.

Isabella's lip trembled, her eyes watering. "I..."

"Go," Alexis said, one tear beginning to form under her eye.

"Madre please..."

"Just go!"

The sound of her apartment door slamming, followed by distant crying, ended the argument.

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* * *

.

The bathroom door slowly opened just enough for Selene to peer out with one golden eye. And what a sight she saw. Her crimson-eyed sister was sitting on the bed, still dressed but with her shorts unzipped. She was facing the wall that was perpendicular to the entryway and the bathroom, both just outside of her peripheral vision. The white witch sat with her legs spread and stared at the blank wall as though she were looking _through _it. Her red eyes were glazed over, and her pretty lips parted as she sucked on one of her claw-trimmed fingers. Her other hand was quite busy between her creamy white thighs, gently parting the folds beneath her shaved cleft, pinching and playing with herself.

Selene crept over quietly behind her sister, and only when she wrapped her arms around her, did the white witch notice she wasn't alone.

"You naughty girl, you," Selene whispered a familiarly coy tone in the white witch's ear, sitting behind Pandia and pressing her breasts against her back.

Pandia could only answer with silent, guilty eyes, her drenched fingers plunging on their own into her dripping sex. She was staring through the wall, watching the carnal act that took place on the other side. Papa was paying homage to his new wife, sucking her breasts and touching her seemingly everywhere at once. The white witch was in awe, for it was like watching two of the most beautiful people ever performing an even more beautiful act on each other. God, but he was so handsome. And she was so graceful. He so masculine; she the picture of beauty.

Selene couldn't fault her voyeuristic sister, it _was_ very arousing. And it wasn't the first time.

"Its okay. You can make it up to me later," Selene said slyly. "Kinda like the first time, you little voyeur."

Pandia panted, remembering when she'd first "accidentally" saw her adoptive parents making love. Like all RSI, her inner sight was voluntary and only allowed her to see outlines from a distance. But she could make out details through a wall if she was very, very close. That was when she realized just how thin the walls were between her and her sister's room and that of their "parents." It had become a regular show, watching them. It was a miracle Matron hadn't caught her yet, but then she was too wrapped up in papa to notice.

Selene was introduced to the show when she'd walked in on her voyeur sister staring at a blank wall and masturbating furiously. That memory was special to the black witch, because watching their sponsors making love was what first sparked the sisters to share their mutual affection for each other. Since then they'd become regular lovers, but it was a different type of satisfaction by pleasing each other than with a man. Not necessarily better or worse, but different. And while she knew Pandia was only using the show to fuel her fantasy about making love to Bill, Selene couldn't fault her. Since watching, Eris was a constant subject in Selene's overactive imagination.

The black witch growled lustily. She would've given her sharpened canines just to know what her matron tasted like. But for now, Pandia would do.

"You want him don't you?" Selene whispered, sliding her midnight hand over her sister's shirt, gently cupping a snow white peak. Pandia nodded vacantly, raising her arms as if in a dream. Selene pulled her shirt away and tossed it aside, cooing at the lack of a bra. She cupped her lover's breasts tenderly, smiling at the way Pandia leaned into her. She gave a quick squeeze and slid her hand down over the smooth white tummy, then gently nudged aside the drenched fingers that were having all the fun between those creamy thighs. No panties either, she noticed. Her scandalous white sister held none of the inhibitions about underwear that she did.

"You want to be Matron right now, don't you sister? To feel papa's tongue make love to you." Selene egged her on, drawing Pandia's soaked fingers to her lips, tenderly sucking the love juices off while her own black fingertips danced around the engorged pearl that practically jutted out from between her sister's white legs.

Pandia moaned shamelessly as the new, yet familiar fingers began strumming her sex. Bill was sitting up now, kissing Matron with such a passion that Pandia could actually _see _her adopted mother's heart race faster through her inner sight. Matron was so damn lucky to make love to papa. The crimson-eyed RSI swore her irises would turn green with envy. _She _wanted to feel Bill's energy, feel that spark from his touch, feel his tongue wriggling inside her.

And yet, by some strange instinct, Pandia also desperately wanted to please her Matron during the lustful act. To kiss her, fondle her. To enhance their pleasure, for that would bring _her _pleasure as well. And she knew she wasn't alone in this strange desire to serve, for she knew her sister felt the same way. They'd talked about it one night while petting each other after an incredible hour of passion, watching their "parents" cuddling each other through the wall. It was then that they decided to act on this strange new desire, but with little success. Numerous times the twins tried to "accidentally" walk in on Bill and Eris making love, in the hopes by some insanely slim chance they would be asked to join. However it never turned out that way, but instead of discouraging them, it only cemented their determination.

"Tell me, or I'll stop," Selene teased.

"Yeesss... I want them."

"You mean you want _him_." The seductive witch corrected her entranced sister, caressing her naked form as she moved in front of her to casually pull away the white witch's shorts and crouch between her legs. The puddle of excitement pooling between those creamy white thighs was soaking into the bed covers, causing her own nether lips to salivate as she crawled forward.

"No... I... I want them both." Pandia whispered, still watching the newlyweds making love through the wall. "I want to feel papa, but I also want to please Matrooooohh..." Pandia moaned as Selene's head disappeared beneath her breasts. All she could see was her sister's shapely ass swaying as she lapped at her dripping sex. The white witch placed her hands on her loving sister's head, mindlessly pressing her into her crotch. Selene had no trouble, for this was often how things started with them. She was more aggressive but more giving than her sister, until she was heavily aroused. Then it was impossible to stop Panny from eating her raw all night. But since Nick wasn't joining them, she wouldn't mind being licked sore.

"Hmmmm?" Selene moaned questioningly into the melting snow white folds, sneaking one of her hands between her own thighs to "dabble."

"I want to... haaah... join theemmm," Pandia gasped as Selene lapped at her labia.

Selene stole a quick glance through the wall. Bill was between Eris' thighs now, eating her out like a starved man. Eris had thrown her legs around his shoulders and was pushing him further. The black witch wanted so badly to taste what her papa was tasting right now.

Pandia's eyes fluttered as spots appeared before them, her first orgasm fast approaching. Suddenly a pair of rough hands grabbed her breasts, fingers pinching her nipples. She looked down to find Bill was between her legs, flickering his tongue over her slit with a skill only he could possess. Pandia stared wide-eyed in surprise, then tossed her head back and moaned shamelessly, not questioning how or why the war vet was suddenly in this room making love to her with his mouth. "Papa...yes... right there," she cried. "Lick me. Please..."

Selene grabbed her sister's breast with her free hand and pressed her nose into her sister's crotch, licking and lapping harder as Pandia gave in to her fantasy, her clawed hands urging Selene as they pressed. However the position and force was smothering the dark witch. She broke away for a moment to breathe, but instead drew in a hushed gasp as she looked up, for she no longer saw Pandia's pale white face twisted in passion. Instead she saw a familiar, beautiful gray visage staring back at her. Amber eyes, filled with admiration and love, mesmerized her. The delicate smile on those supple gray lips melted her.

"Ma... Matron?" Selene whispered in disbelief.

"Lick me," Eris pleaded, a look of utter desire on her face. The siren's gray fingers were splayed, pulling her lips apart to show the moist, pink, diamond-shaped entrance to heaven. "Please..."

The black witch eagerly complied, returning between the soft gray thighs that framed paradise. She lapped lovingly at the pink folds, gentle kisses and touches the way she would want love made to her. Selene squirmed on the bed at the sound of her Matron's melodious coos and cries of ecstasy. Ankles hooked around her shoulders as she sucked the fleshy pearl between her teeth, pulling her in further.

"I... oh God, I'm coming!" Pandia cried out and threw her head back as the passion fire exploded between her legs. She shook and sobbed as the first orgasm racked through her body.

Selene moaned loudly as Pandia's orgasm soaked her lips and dribbled down her chin, triggering her own. Her fingers were flying in and out of herself as her body convulsed, liquid passion pouring over the back of her hand and down her arm.

The twins fell onto the bed together, gasping for air as they turned to the blank wall. Matron was riding papa Bill hard, her wings extended for balance as she practically ground her ass into him. Bill was on his back, but his hands were gripping Eris' butt as he lifted them both off the bed with every upward thrust. Her breasts bounced as he drove his thick, rigid manhood into her over and over.

Pandia said nothing as she mounted Selene's chest, her ass practically in her sister's face as she lay atop her, slipping her hands beneath her sister's cute black derriere and squeezing as though trying to get more nectar from the soaked garden before her. With a growl of animalistic lust, she buried her face between Selene's thighs and licked like a ravenous wolf.

Selene saw spots in front of her eyes at the sudden and rough attention paid to her lower region. The fact that Matron, _her _Matron, was now returning the oral favor with such zeal had the black witch practically squealing with excitement. Still reeling from the thought of pleasing her, she licked the juices running down her sister's thighs as though she was cleaning Eris instead. In a mirror image of Pandia, Selene growled and buried her face into the dripping folds. The two sisters fed into each others' sexual energy like a perpetual motion machine, the act causing both to lick faster, to nip and bite harder. Eventually the white witch was practically slamming her hips onto the black witch's face, who in turn was bucking her hips upward to meet every thrust of the tongue into her folds. In moments, the two witches screamed as their mutual orgasm overpowered them, both girls faces practically drenched by the others forceful climax.

The twins fell apart, one rolling off the other. Selene's right hand found Pandia's left and they held each other in that way while staying flat on their backs.

"That was intense..." Pandia gasped.

"You know it sister," Selene sighed, reality washing away the image of the gray goddess from her vision. The twins pulled on each others hand to draw themselves up into a sitting position, briefly kissing each other and sharing their liquid love.

And then something else caught their eyes.

Only partially forgotten to the pair until now, the lustful act of their parents was reaching its conclusion. Pandia and Selene stared through the wall in astonishment. The war vet bucked his hips harder and squeezed at his wife. The siren's wings were fully extended behind her back and she was gasping for air, staring at the ceiling. Her gasps became cries of delight that went higher and higher, and then...

Eris belted out a melodious scream that seemed to resonate right through the walls as it's pitch went beyond what the human ear could detect. But to the twins, their Matron's cry was as clear as a bell, calling to their inner beast. Their pupils dilated, vision blurred, hearts raced, tongues hung from their mouths, and their minds were suddenly consumed.

The twins turned to each other, saying nothing, for no words were needed. A low growl rose between them, like two tigers, until the sound of a door opening caused them both to turn in surprise.

.

* * *

.

"An' thanks ta him, now it's illegal to use jumper cables in th' bedroom in four states."

Jade laughed heartily as Ellis finished another unique and hilarious tale of his buddy Keith. He was nothing short of a very lucky fool, and Ellis luckier for having survived half the adventures he'd claimed to share with the guy. The two had been swapping stories most of the evening, sitting at the edge of the building rooftop with their legs dangling over the edge. The huntress for her part was not afraid, but it was one more sign to her that Ellis was a special kind of guy, because anyone else would be rather put off sitting on the edge of a fatal plunge.

But as her laughter died down, she saw a trace of sadness in the young mechanic's eye.

"Do you... know what happened to him?" Jade asked quietly.

Ellis drew in the chilly dusk air as though cleansing his mind. "Ah... Ah don't know. We wuz supposed ta meet up at one of th' evacuation areas when the green flu was considered a pandemic. Said he wuz gonna get his girlfriend 'n they'd meet me there. Told him ah'd go wit him, bein' brothers by friendship that we wuz, but he made me promise ta go on ahead. So ah did. Thats how ah met my friends, Coach, Rochelle, an' Nick." Ellis paused and stared into the sunset, remembering the horror he thought he'd buried over a year ago.

"But... ah never found 'im. Military had no record ah him or his girl at any survivor station." Ellis sighed, looking between his legs, down the long line of lit windows that stopped at the ground twenty stories below.

A clawed hand fell on his shoulder, and Ellis looked to his left into the eyes of his new girlfriend. The evening sunlight back lit her hooded form, making her a black silhouette with glowing green eyes. A few wisps of her hair fluttered with the night wind.

"Ellis, I'm... I'm sorry," Jade said, now looking away from him. She felt so guilty. God knew what she'd done while under MR-1's influence. How many lives had she taken? Several RSI felt the same way, but were dealing with the guilt and pain though counseling. But Jade was a special case, for she was one of the few RSI who could remember bits and pieces of her life as an infected. She often awoke screaming from nightmares of her tearing into helpless people, ripping them apart, snarling as she bit their throats and bathed in their blood. She hated herself for it, and yet as much as she enjoyed putting her physical abilities to good use, it still painfully reminded her of the atrocities she'd committed.

And now she hated it more than ever, because she swore Ellis would judge her, like every human had, and he'd hate her too.

"For whut? Not yer faul-"

"How do you know?" She snapped suddenly, growling at him as she quickly stood up. Ellis was on his feet in no time as well at the sudden hostility in her voice. "_I_ don't even know, and I hate that. How many people did I and my brethren kill? All I can remember are bits and pieces... literally! For all you know, Keith could be dead and I could be his killer!" Jade shouted.

Ellis only stared at her blankly, eyes darting about as though expecting her to attack.

The agitated huntress got a hold of herself, feeling quite embarrassed for her outburst. Everything was going so well, and then she lost it. She'd snapped at Ellis for a question _she _asked and didn't like the answer to. It wasn't his fault, it was hers. All this time she was worried she would lose him, and she was about to drive him away instead.

So much for the perfect night.

"I have to go," Jade said with a shaky voice. She crouched to face the edge of the building, ready to leap somewhere, anywhere just to get away. Her muscles tensed, ready to propel her into the sky.

Instead she was knocked right off her feet and flat on her back.

"Sorry 'bout this, but you don' get to run away that easily," The country boy said with a stern frown. Jade felt her face blush, her wrists were pinned down by her head and he was straddling her. The sudden heat in her cheeks was only matched by the rising heat in her loins.

"I... I'm sorry Ellis," she said, ashamed of herself now for feeling more than a little turned on by their position. "I asked you a question and I wasn't prepared for the answer, but that's not your fault. You can let me up-"

"Y'know how many nights I laid awake Jade, thinkin' bout how many people ah killed?" Ellis said very calmly, still refusing to move. "Th' killin' got to be pretty easy after 'bout the first ten zombies or so, but ah had ta do it. It wuz kill or be killed. You push your feelins aside when fightin' for your life. Pretty soon they're not people anymore. They're not men or women, they're jus numbers. Its only after the blood is washed from yer clothes that ya really ponder it. Jus how many people's lives you've ended. How many of them were jus like me, but not so lucky? Or like you? Know how many special infected ah killed?"

Jade shook her head, feeling a little afraid of the answer. Ellis was talking about his killings as calmly as he discussed the weather.

"Well ah couldn't keep track after a few days, but ah'd like to say I done killed me over fifty. An every one of em tried to kill me or mah friends. Been pounced by hunters before too. Even a couple huntress' like you, but they all had that look in their eyes. No remorse, no pity, just rage and blood lust." Ellis leaned over her, going practically nose to nose with her.

"Ellis, you're scaring me." Jade said. Though she could easily push him off, doing so might hurt him, or worse, send him over the edge of the roof, which was only a few feet away.

"Good. Ya need to be scared, need to face your demons, because ya haven't yet. If you had you wouldn't be upset by what I told ya. And ya wouldn't be upset wit yourself. Ya did what ya did, and it's done. Ah faced mah demons, faced what ah've done, and I kin never justify all of it, but that don't matter. Jus don't run away Jade. I'm not gonna judge you, cuz none of you wuz in yer right mind when you were infected. That's not who you are. Ah didn't dance wit a killer tonight, ah danced with _you._"

And with that, Ellis pressed his lips against hers, briefly, softly. Both their eyes shut, just like the moment when he'd saved her life. It lasted for a few moments, and then Ellis got off her and stood up. The green-eyed huntress moved to a crouch, staring at the survivor with an even greater admiration.

"Please stay Jade," he said calmly, putting his ball cap back on.

Jade smiled, a mutual respect between them now. "I'll stay. Thank you Ellis."

"No problem Ja-" the country boy started, but a high pitched scream, faint yet nearby caught his attention. It seemed to come from the building across the way. It grew higher and higher in pitch until it had become silent.

Jade turned to the building across the way. She knew that voice, even as a scream. It was her Matron, but it was unlike any sound her ears had ever detected. Jade heard Matron sing countless times, but she'd never heard such a primal scream from the gray goddess. Her inner sight revealed why as she stared at the window across the way. Matron was easy to make out, for her aura was an entirely different glow from that of other RSI. She was on top of another glow, that of a human, her husband. And it was quite obvious that she was making love and from the sound of her continual cry she'd just...

The huntress felt a sudden urge welling up within her as the Matron's scream reached fever pitch. Her vision went fuzzy for a moment and she stared at Ellis, his bright aura calling to her the way a red cloth does to a bull. She wanted, no needed, to pounce him!

"What in the hell wuz..." Ellis started, but a growl cut off his question. He turned in surprise to see Jade fixated on him several feet away. Her green eyes appeared to be glazed over, and she was crouched like a true huntress, ready to leap.

"Ellis...I..." she growled, her hoodie hiding her face. She couldn't help herself. The desire was too strong.

"Jade! Don't!"

"Sorryyrrrghh!"

And in the next instant, Ellis saw nothing but glowing green eyes and fangs flying towards him.

.

* * *

.

"Can't believe I'm doing this," Nick sighed, casually fingering the earring in his jacket pocket as he took the elevator to the twentieth floor. The black witch, Selene if he remembered right, had lost the earring during their dancing. The con man laughed dryly at that. She'd "lost" the earring by slipping it into his pocket. Before he could ask, she groped his aching crotch and whispered that should he find her earring "hard" to hold onto, he should come to their room to return it.

He wasn't going to. Really, he wasn't. He'd drank more than enough to cloud his judgment, and the idea of climbing into bed with two RSI witches was crazy even for him. They were hot, fuck there was no denying that. And sure he was the adventurous type, but he wasn't the type to walk straight into the jaws of the lion either. What if they became overly excited? Not that it would be a bad thing, they didn't have their claws anymore, but they were still easily stronger than six men put together. A witch's generally slender and lithe form was known for masking her true strength. If they went out of control...

The large bulge in his pants practically screamed otherwise. "Going out of control" would be a very _very _good thing.

It was the alcohol, that was Nick's excuse, for his hard-on and for his desire to return the earring. The two were mutually exclusive though, lets be clear. He'd forget all about the earring the next morning with the impending hangover headache that was only a few hours away, so best to return the errant jewelery now while he still had a fragment of his wits about him. He'd be quick, just hand it over and walk out. They'd probably be passed out from all that dancing anyway, so he'd leave it on a night table or something. If the door was locked, he'd just slip it through the crack and go straight back to his room. Do not pass "Go," do not collect two damn sexy witches that were begging for a ride on Nick's Thick Dick Express Train to...

He paused, standing in front of the door. He didn't even remember the "ding" of the elevator, or his walk down the hall to the end, but here he was. He shook his head. Just return the earring.

One knuckle raised, poised to knock.

Then a scream of passion, not even muffled by the closed door, came from the room next to theirs. Nick's vision shook for a moment as the sonic wave passed through him, the cry rising so high in pitch it no longer made sound.

"Rrrgh... the hell was that?" He asked no one, leaning back against the wall opposite the door to keep from falling over. His head was spinning and he feared he would lose all the wine he'd drank that night. A moment or two passed and he was fine again, but left rather confused about the strange scream which to him sounded like a cross between a sonic wave and a cry of orgasm.

"Just return the earring Nicky," he sighed, straightening his suit. As he approached the door, his head started to spin again and instead of knocking he practically fell into the door, which was not properly latched shut.

And when it fell open he knew he'd made a mistake. Two pairs of eyes, crimson and gold, stared at the intruder with a frightening glare. Pandia and Selene were crouched together on their bed, stark naked, but with a single-minded purpose in their ravenous eyes. If not for fear of being torn to pieces, Nick would've been ready to burst from his pants at the erotic sight of two sweaty, naked women heaving and panting in a room that reeked of sex.

His jaw fell open emitting silence; a perfect impression of Ellis when he'd been kissed. The two witches stared at him for a heartbeat.

An instant later the con man was yanked into the door by a pair of black and white hands. And as the door slammed shut, all that could be heard was Nick's screams and the tearing of his clothes.

.

* * *

.

Francis headed to Alexis' apartment in the same large building that housed nearly everyone he'd met during his adventures. He was back in his signature biker's outfit, feeling a little better for the change of clothing, but still felt a tightness in his chest he hated. Upon reaching the door to Alexis' apartment, he knocked, rather lightly. Damn but he was dreading this "talk."

"Come in."

The biker slowly pushed the door open, pausing for a moment as he looked around the room. He figured Alexis would have fancier digs than himself given her position, but it was the same typical studio-sized apartment that everyone seemed to have. She sat on a large, overstuffed couch, her hands folded in her lap. Her legs were crossed in that sexy way women do when showing off their legs, but one foot was idly bouncing in the air. There was no doubt she was very nervous.

"Hi beautiful," Francis said, trying to smile, unmoving from the entry way.

"You can close the door and come in Francis, I won't bite." Alexis said softly, looking at him with sad eyes.

The biker shut the door and stepped in, now feeling even more anxious. After his love had her little chat with Isabella and the three of them were looking all chummy during the dance, Alexis put on a false happy face that would've fooled any typical onlooker. But the biker knew enough to just go with it and smile too, act like everything was just fine, but his gut told him something was wrong. He was certain Isabella knew something was up too.

"So what's wrong?"

"Please sit next to me."

Francis crossed the room and sat close to the depressed R.N. His love was no longer in her bridesmaid dress, but in her typical white nurse's uniform. Though it was hardly typical in the traditional sense, for it displayed her generous cleavage and her sexy legs in an enticing manner, all while maintaining a look of professionalism. If not for her depressed demeanor, she'd look dead sexy.

"Talk to me." Francis said, grasping her hands.

Alexis looked into his brown eyes, her own watering. This was going to hurt. A lot.

"Isabella and I are very close," she started. "I've been her sponsor for quite a while now. And in a lot of ways she really is like a daughter to me. She has all of her ol' mom's mannerisms." She finished with a sheepish laugh.

Francis nodded. That would explain why she was so forward and naughty when she'd met him. "Yeah I could tell you two were close the way you dragged her off the dance floor, but I never would've guessed you were her sponsor." Francis scratched the back of his head. There was something more, but he couldn't put his finger on it.

"Francis, I've looked after Izzy since before I knew what had happened to you and Louis and Zoey. At the time Bill and Eris had been rescued from Rayford and project Neo Zoi was already underway, but it had still been months before we knew any of you were alive. Isabella was like many of the RSI when they first regain their identity. She had a lot of questions about herself, but she also had a lot of questions about me because she was so close to me." Alexis paused, dabbing at her eyes. "One day she came back from therapy and I was crying, and not just a few tears, but outright bawling."

"That's not like you at all," Francis said with a lopsided smile. "No wonder that island suddenly got cold. Hell was freez-"

Alexis smacked his arm playfully and couldn't help but giggle. She missed him so much. Missed that sense of humor.

Francis threw an arm around her and pulled her in close, and for a few minutes they sat like that silently. Alexis sighed happily. She wished this talk could just stop here and that would be it, but she owed her "big boy" the truth.

"I was thinking about you, Francis. How I'd never see you again." She said, staring into his eyes. Francis felt that tightness in his chest constricting like a boa. "Isabella was naturally upset at seeing her 'madre' crying and wanted to know why. I didn't want to talk about you in the past tense, like you were some fallen hero, because I was hoping, praying that one day you'd come back to me, so I simply told her I was lonely. That I missed being held, missed being touched, by someone very dear to me, and that I was afraid I would never feel love again."

Francis sat silently, feeling decidedly tight in his loose fitting clothes. Alexis took a deep breath, pausing.

"Isabella... comforted me."

"Whats wrong with that?" Francis asked.

Alexis sighed. This was it. "The MR-1 virus destroys nearly all intricate memory and blankets the more basic, leaving only instinctual behaviors, most notably rage. One of the jobs of a sponsor is to help the RSI relearn our cultural rules and norms, among other things. I was helping Isabella rediscover herself in a lot of ways. She was still like a child when it came to certain things, or rather more like a teenager who was discovering herself. She had questions about her body, not so much her mutation but more... "personal" questions. Which I answered. She had questions about love. About companionship. Which I also answered as best I could without crying, for I always thought about you during those times. That day when I was truly upset, Isabella decided to comfort me the way she thought I wanted to be comforted."

"You... you and her were lovers?" Francis asked.

Alexis nodded. "It wasn't just her. I wanted it too, but for the wrong reasons. What she felt for me was genuine love. And I loved... still love... her too. But it was wrong of me, because no one could ever replace you Francis, and I felt like I'd used Izzy to help me forget about you. I told her that I'd taken advantage of her. She insisted I hadn't, that she felt more like it was the other way around, even though she said she was in love with me." Alexis sighed, this was getting tough. "We... we spent a lot of time together like this, until one day I had to put a stop to it. I told her she would find someone who would make her happy, and that we couldn't do this anymore; that it wasn't fair to either of us. She reluctantly respected my wishes, but said that she would always be there for me the way I'd been for her."

Francis nodded quietly, seeing Alexis in an entirely different light.

"Shortly thereafter you came back, but at that time Isabella was transferred here to Rayford. She'd proven herself trustworthy and very capable. I was still working with Dr. Allan at Echo Rho Tau, thus you never met her in my company. Its all a strange series of coincidence that you two never met her before you and I... had our fight."

Francis sighed, remembering that day quite well. It was like he'd lost his beloved cocoa-skinned R.N. all over again.

"But little did I know that Isabella would develop a crush on you when you transferred to Rayford. She e-mailed me all the time, telling me about how much she was enjoying helping the other RSI and assisting with reconstructing the town. She told me she also had her eyes set on a 'rugged' non-infected."

"Can't knock her for good taste," Francis said with a cheeky grin.

"No I can't," Alexis sighed, rolling her eyes, though she was smiling a little. "She'd been watching you for a while apparently, and was going to get up the nerve to talk to you during the wedding. She asked me for advice, for pointers."

"She about undressed me in that catering tent, trying to help me fix my tuxedo." Francis said.

Alexis giggled at that, her jealousy long gone. "She always listened to her 'madre.' I'm surprised she didn't try to seduce you right there."

The biker laughed and looked away, thinking about it. She'd certainly tried, and nearly had succeeded, if not for his heart.

"Of course I had no idea the object of her affection was _my_ big boy. So when you two were dancing I was jealous of her, but she thought I was jealous of _you._"

"Sweetheart," Francis asked, pulling her closer. "Why were you jealous?"

Alexis smirked and looked him in the eyes. "You may be dense at times, but you're not _that _stupid, Francis. You know why I was jealous..."

"Yeah I know, I just wanted to hear you say it."

"So... how do _you_ feel?" Alexis barely whispered the question, for fear of the answer.

"About Isabella? I like her a lot. She's funny and coy and sexy and honest. She's your adopted daughter, no doubt."

Alexis giggled. "I taught her well, and in case you didn't know she's got a serious thing for you still. In fact she was very upset when she thought I wasn't going to tell you about her and I, mainly because she said you deserved to know since you're such a wonderful man."

"A wonderful man eh? Well I got her fooled." Francis laughed.

"She knows the genuine article when she see's it." The coca-skinned R.N. said. "She stormed out of here when she thought I was getting cold feet. Chances are she was going to find you."

"Wow," the biker said, looking quite surprised. He had a feeling Isabella liked him. A lot. But to go so far as to try and sort things out herself.

"She... really cares a lot about me... and you, doesn't she?"

The R.N. nodded, then withdrew a little, still looking nervous. "You still didn't answer me Francis. How do you feel about...?"

Francis scratched the back of his head. "You thought I was dead, so I can't give ya too much hell for being all broken up about me and finding comfort. But I'm a little mad about that..."

"About me and Izzy you mean?" Alexis asked.

"No. That you really thought _I _was dead. You should know I'm indestructible."

Alexis chuckled, feeling the constriction around her heart finally loosening. Francis didn't joke when he was upset. "I was so distraught I couldn't think straight, that's my excuse." She added playfully.

"As for you and Isabella, I kinda figured you were the uh.. 'type.'"

"Bisexual?"

"Yeah. Just never knew, and I wasn't gonna ask. You liked me and I wasn't going to risk pissing you off."

"Francis, I don't like you."

The biker's eyes went wide and he visibly stiffened.

"I love you, silly boy." Alexis said, placing her arms around his shoulders.

"I love you too, beautiful."

"So you're not mad at me?" Alexis asked playfully. "Not even a little?"

"A little. But only for the great make-up sex."

Alexis laughed and drew her lover in for a deep kiss. The biker leaned over his naughty nurse, laying them both down on the couch. A mutual sigh was shared in their kiss, both having longed for each other in body and soul.

The next several minutes were a blur to both lovers. Their clothes had practically flown off, both their hands flying in a blazing fury that would put a master martial artist to shame. In an instant, Francis was naked atop his equally nude lover, suckling her breasts like a starving man. Alexis was gasping and panting, urging her hips up against him, begging for him to enter her. She was so wet at the thought of having her big boy practically splitting her apart again, she wouldn't even need foreplay.

"C'mon stud," Alexis purred, running her fingers over his buzzed down hair. "Fuck me."

The hungry biker sucked once more, letting the erect dark nipple pop from his mouth. He crawled over his lover, feeling her legs lifting like two arches on either side of him as he prepared to grant her request. The two lovers eyes found each other akin to the way they had when they'd first met, though neither of them had noticed at the time. Their naughty parts touched, one nudging the other, begging entry.

"Please baby," Alexis breathed.

"What about Isabella?" Francis whispered before kissing his lover briefly. "She might come back. Shouldn't we go to the bedroom?"

"Don't worry about her. When she's upset she likes to take a long walk. She won't come back till the wee hours." Alexis panted.

Francis felt a touch of guilt at sweet RSI being hurt, but when his cock head nudged into Alexis' dripping folds and she mewled in his ear, the sour moment vanished in a lustful heartbeat. He pushed into her deeper, feeling her lips drag over ever engorged vein standing out on his manhood. With a slick slap, he hit bottom, both of them gasping.

"Yes... fuck me Francis!" Alexis pleaded as the biker established his rhythm. The biker was happy to comply, as he drove himself over and over into the wet folds of his lover. The ebony beauty began matching her lover's enthusiasm, lifting her ass to meet every hard thrust. The couch beneath them squeaked and creaked in protest to their rough movements. The lovers gave into their desires, letting the lust wash away their prior conversation. Nothing mattered at that moment.

Francis chuckled at the feeling of his lover's hand tickling his balls. She was so talented the way she could multitask. Holding on to his arms_ and _playing with...

"Mmm... baby I love the way you nibble my ear," Alexis sighed, her eyes closed.

"But... I'm not." Francis said, eyes widening in horror as a slimy tongue like tendril idly played with his lover's earlobe.

Alexis' eyes opened, then narrowed slyly as she stared over the biker's shoulder.

"Izzy! You naughty girl. Mind telling me what you're doing to my boyfriend down there?"

But the RSI smoker said nothing, instead removing her fingers and withdrawing her tongue. The two lovers pulled apart and stared at the new arrival, who's eyes were glassed over as if in a daze.

"Isabella?" Francis asked, a little worry in his voice. Never mind that he and his love were stark naked and interrupted in their lovemaking.

The Latina smoker answered with a gasping smoker cough, staring both of them down, a ravenous look in her eyes Francis could only remember seeing that type of glare just before a smoker would strike.

The next thing he knew, Francis saw her tongue fly out of her mouth like a python, wrapping around Alexis, while Isabella lunged at him with hands out.

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A/N: Pwease review!


	25. Epilogue

_**Legal Disclaimer: Thank goodness this is the last time I'll have to write this jargon for a while. Valve owns Bill, Zoey, Louis, Francis, Coach, Rochelle, Nick, Ellis, Hunter, Smoker, Boomer, Witch, Tank, Charger, Spitter, & Jockey. They own the plot to the hit game Left 4 Dead and Left 4 Dead 2, as well as the "mutated rabies" virus that started the whole thing. **_

_**Tripwire owns Sgt. Powers in name only.**_

_**Xmodius owns everything else that cannot be claimed by the first two aforementioned parties, including, but not limited to: Eris, Pandia, Selene, Jade, Frank the Tank, Isabella, Alexis, Dr. Allan, and any other character in previous chapters not listed above. He also owns this subplot, despite it taking so dang long to finish, so no plagiarizing. **_

_Mature Content Warning: This story contains violence, naughty language, and even naughtier "body language" if you get my meaning. Wink. But for the slower types, I mean there's sex in here. Oh yeah, quite a bit, even by my standards. So turn back now while you still have your visual virginity. Then again, if you've been loyal up to this point, my dirty writing took that virginity long ago. ;-)_

Updated: 4/17/2012 (dear god was it really four months?)

Authors Notes: If anyone is still around for this story, I apologize for taking so long to update. Life has a way of throwing a lot of tomatoes at you when you think the play is going well, and I had a lot of personal messes to clean up. Frankly that's all I'm going to say about why this took so long. This will be the last chapter. Yes. Really! I'm not kidding! Hey don't thumb your nose at me! I'm dead serious. See that chapter title: "Epilogue"? Yup, you see it. This is it ladies 'n germs. And about time I'm sure a lot of you are thinking right now. I hope this was worth the wait, and again for everyone who's been a fan since I started this over 2 years ago, thank you from the bottom of my heart for all your reviews, praise, critiques, and suggestions. Despite this long pause, I hope everyone lights up that review board like a Christmas tree. :-)

So without further ado (marks the check box next to Complete in the FF story status), here's the final chapter to Double Feature!

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Chapter 24 – Epilogue

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Eris screamed, the pain worse than anything she could ever imagine. She squeezed the metal bed rails in each hand, twisting the steel in her grip. Her clenched eyes opened as another spasm passed, but everything was a blur amidst the tears. The wavy outlines of several people were around her, all of them saying something along the lines of encouragement. To keep going. Not like she had a choice in the matter, but this pain was going to kill her.

"C'mon sweetheart, you can do it," said a gruff voice by her ear. The one voice she cared about.

Eris gasped, panting as she had a few moments reprieve. The only time she'd experienced such earth-shattering pain was when her wings sprouted. Now it felt like that pain had migrated to her crotch, then magnified about a hundred times. She drew in a breath to say more, but the next spasm was already upon the siren. Her shriek shattered one of the overhead lights.

"Shit!" Someone swore.

"Here it comes!" Said another voice.

"C'mon sweetheart. Push!"

Eris flexed her muscles and screamed again, flapping her wings; it felt like something was ripping her apart from the legs. And as her scream died down to a low cry, a tiny voice joined in.

"We've got one!" Said a familiar female voice.

"Whadaya mean you've got one?" Said the gruff war vet by Eris' side. "There's another?"

In answer, Eris cried out again and pulled on the bed rails. The "ping" of snapping metal was hardly heard as she ripped the handles off in her thrashing.

"Almost there..." said Dr. Allan. "Almost..." With one final shove, Eris gasped and felt the last of the pain dull to a low throb. And with its passing, came another crying voice.

"Twins!" Alexis shouted.

"Say what?" Zoey asked from the back of the large room. She and Louis, along with Francis, Isabella, Pandia, Selene, and Nick were there for moral support. Not that any of them could see what was going on. A privacy sheet was hung up to preserve the modesty of the event. Although close to his comrades, Bill didn't think it appropriate for them to be in the room at all, but Eris wanted them there for moral support, just like she wanted her husband by her side. All of the immediate "family" were standing a healthy distance away in the large room, hearing the miracle of life more so than seeing it.

"What?" Bill shouted.

"Remove your sonic protection!" Dr. Allan shouted.

Everyone in the room, save Eris, removed a set of large, yellow, construction worker style ear muffs. There was no doubt that the delivery would be typically painful, but Eris' birthing screams were a bit more than just loud. Without ear protection, no one would've been able to be in the room with her.

"Twins?" Bill gasped, tossing the ear protection aside as he peeked around the privacy sheet to address the others.

"A boy and a girl," Alexis said, wrapping the crying newborns in two receiving blankets. She and another nurse quickly took them behind another sheeted off area to weigh them and get vitals.

"Double trouble, old man." Nick said, slipping his arms around the RSI on either side of him.

"It'll be worth it," Pandia and Selene giggled, kissing their shared boyfriend on his cheeks as he drew them in close. They snaked their hands over his back, their fingers entwining as they rubbed him.

"Yeah till they're old enough to raise hell like their older sisters... ack!" Nick yelped as two pairs of fingers pinched his ass. "Uh... not that it's a bad thing."

Selene resumed playfully rubbing his back, content with that answer. Pandia, however, was now completely fixated on the sheet that only hid the sight behind it from the ordinary humans in the room. The white witch could clearly make out the two tiny glowing auras on the other side, her eyes alight with excitement.

"Lemme see my new siblings!" Pandia squealed like a child and practically charged forth, but Nick held her back.

"Hang on Panny." He said, turning her around by one shoulder. "This isn't the best-"

"But I wanna see my little brother and sister," Pandia whined, her pleading red eyes looking just adorable.

"Nicky's right, we can see them later," Selene said, gently placing a hand on her sister's other shoulder. "They aren't going anywhere, so let's give Matron and papa Bill some private time with their new children."

The white witch pouted but said nothing else, staring longingly in the direction of the new life in the room.

"Good idea," Zoey chimed in. "C'mon Louis lets give them some time."

The group of friends quietly filed out of the room. As the door softly clicked shut, Eris let out one more gasp and fell back onto the bed. Her platinum hair looked frizzy and haphazard. A line of sweat was over her gray forehead, her pretty gray lips parted to allow her exhausted breath to come out in gasps. The gray goddess' tired amber eyes focused on nothing, but the ceiling. Giving birth had been the most taxing ordeal she'd ever been through.

But when she was presented with a pair of little crying cherubs wrapped in blue and pink receiving blankets, her eyes lit up like two fireflies.

"It's my honor," Dr. Allan said as he handed the newborns over to the exhausted, but no less joyful, gray goddess.

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A pair of black heels click-clacked on the off-white linoleum floor, the wearer taking a calm gait towards the large open waiting area that was anything but "hospital quiet." Alexis was hardly noticed by anyone as she stopped by the edge of the waiting area, all of its occupants engaged in conversation.

Louis and Zoey stood together in the middle of the open room, very anxious to see their comrade's children. Two three-seat couches stretched along the longer wall, with Pandia, Nick, and Selene sitting in one, and Francis and Isabella standing in front of the other as though guarding their option to sit down if they felt like it. The two witches were chattering excitedly about all the things they were going to do with their new "siblings" when they were old enough. The con man sat quietly in the middle, leaning back so he wasn't blocking the sister's from seeing each other. Why they didn't just sit next to each other, instead of flanking him all the time, was a mystery to the former law breaker. But even as the two RSI witches went on and on as though he wasn't there, both their hands squeezed his legs lovingly, reminding him why he was always in the middle. Francis stood, idly thumbing his vest, with Isabella standing closely behind him. Ellis and Jade sat in a small loveseat against the shorter wall. The two young lovers had stayed well away during the birth, both of them concerned about the impact Eris' screams would have on the huntress. None the less, they were both eager to see the very first "cross breed" children.

Alexis cleared her throat, and the room fell silent.

"Louis. Zoey." She said, addressing the young couple. "As god parents, you two get to go first."

"Thanks Alexis... woah!" Louis was yanked right past the R.N. and down the hall, Zoey holding his hand and nearly breaking into a run to see her god kids. "Slow down Zoey, they're not gonna float away!"

"You don't know that," Zoey said with a grin as she pulled him down the long hall.

Alexis chuckled as she watched them hurry away, then took her place next to her big boy and her RSI daughter.

"I can't wait to see them!" Pandia said, practically rocking in her seat before turning to Dr. Allan's assistant. "Alexis what are they like? Are they cute?"

The R.N. simply laughed. "They look like newborn babies, and they're adorable."

"Oh come on," Selene chimed in, her comparatively casual demeanor finally falling apart with anticipation. "You know what she meant. Who do they look like?"

"Not telling," Alexis said smugly. "You'll just have to wait and see them for yourself."

The monochromatic witches pouted and settled for snuggling onto their mutual boyfriend, who tried to maintain the role of being aloof and disinterested, but was failing horribly at it more and more lately.

"I'm sorry we couldn't be there," Jade said shyly to her boyfriend in a whispered tone.

"Shoot. Coach n Rochelle din show up neither." Ellis whispered back, rubbing her hand.

"I know but..." Jade trailed off, her face blushing red. The memory of how she'd lost herself to her more primal instincts never ceased to embarrass her. She reached to pull a hoodie over her head to hide her shame, but there was none. The huntress hadn't worn those types of pullovers for months at the request of her boyfriend. As he'd put it, she was "purtier than a sunset on a summer day" and he didn't like when she was shrouded.

"It's okay hon, ah know you're concerned 'bout what would happen if ya heard Eris scream like ya did the day of th' wedding." Ellis threw his arm around the blushing green-eyed woman and pulled her close. "Lookin' back on that night though, it wuddn't a bad thing."

"Ellis!" Jade stared at him in mock anger, but the country boy only smiled knowingly. Jade was still red as a beet, but couldn't help smiling back. Embarrassed as she'd been, she'd never trade that night for anything...

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_The cold concrete rooftop smashed Ellis in the back, Jade's sudden pounce driving him down with such force that the wind was knocked out of him. The country boy couldn't scream, couldn't fight back, only watch in horror. His glowing-green eyed girlfriend was consumed by her hunter instinct. She began clawing and tearing at his clothes, ripping away shreds and tossing them aside the way a dog would kick dirt when burying a bone. Cold air brushed over his exposed chest, and then a sharp pain lit up around his groin from his pants being forcibly ripped away. He felt a shiver pass right down to his bones, but not from the chilly night air. _

_The huntress threw herself into him, grabbing his arms and pinning them by his head as she went nose to nose. Her glowing green eyes pierced his soul, almost as unnerving as her gleaming canines that looked sharp enough to tear body armor._

_Ellis' life flashed before his eyes. He'd survived mobs of boomer-driven zombies, tiger-like hunters with their lethal pounce, the noose tongue of smokers, acid pools from spitters, and the death punch of an enraged tank. Even Keith would call him luckier than a cat sauntering through a Chinese restaurant during the dinner rush._

_And now this is how it would end, torn to pieces by his new girlfriend's claws. _

_Jade's mouth opened, fangs gleaming. Ellis clenched his eyes shut, remembering how painful that first tear into flesh was and would be..._

_But then she kissed him, rather forcefully, but not entirely unpleasantly. The young mechanic's went from fear to outright confusion, stated by a muffled grunt on his part. The huntress ground her hips into his bared groin, pushing all of herself onto him with such force. It felt like she was trying to suck his tongue right out of his mouth, she was kissing him so hard._

_Their lips parted suddenly, a string of saliva stretching and snapping as the huntress sat up. The survivor sucked air to try and put out the fire in his lungs; he hadn't even thought to breathe. The huntress kept her powerful legs clamped around him and practically ripped her hoodie as she tore it over her head. Her t-shirt met a worse fate, being completely ripped apart at the collar. There was no bra to hide her charms, which defied gravity all on their own. Two generous hand-fulls, each capped with a perky pink bud practically taunting his lips. Ellis caught himself gawking, until a growl broke him from his trance. Jade's eyes, the color of her name, were ravenous, unyielding, and locked on the survivor beneath her. She growled again as if in warning for him to stay still. She slowly stood up, straddling him, then tore at her own jeans, the button flying off at the waist and the zipper flying down. She grunted and screeched, the tough material not ripping away as easily as her hoodie and t-shirt._

_Ellis' knew his accent and country roots led folks to judging him as simple-minded. However, he was anything but the southern stereotype. He was a survivor, and a true survivor had more than just lightning reflexes, razor sharp aim, and tireless stamina. A true survivor was also fast thinker, on or off his feet. Thus, it didn't take but a second on his part to realize Jade wasn't interested in killing him. What was mistaken for feral rage was actually uncontrolled, animalistic lust. He wasn't sure exactly what had come over her; not a moment ago she was relaxed but shy, barely sitting right next to him while they talked about their lives. It probably had something to do with that scream he'd heard earlier. _

_Still, Jade was more worked up than a kitty in a catnip bush. Ellis needed to calm her down, and there was only one way he knew how._

_The country boy sat up quickly, grabbing the huntress' jeans by her waist and yanking them down. She snarled as though angry, but the look in her eyes told him otherwise. As he pulled the pants around her ankles, she tried to tear away her panties but tripped on her jeans. With a dog like "yelp" she fell right on her rump. She was about to spring up, but in a kind of deja vu, a muscular mechanic was already on top of her._

"_Second time tonight I've pounced a hunter," Ellis said with a smile as he kicked away the jeans around his captive's ankles. Jade growled but didn't struggle, her own mind very conflicted between her sudden inflamed lusts and her adoration of this naked man. He smashed his lips into hers, forcing his tongue between them. The huntress clumsily returned the kiss, squirming as something rather hot and rigid poked the front of her panties. They broke apart again, another trail of saliva, only this time it was the green-eyed RSI who was panting._

_Ellis pawed Jade's breasts, leaning in low to nip her neck while she squirmed beneath him. Her hot breath came in puffs over his ear, her claws dragging not too forcefully over her lover's back and up his shoulders as he kissed down her body. His mouth took a breast, tenderly suckling as his hands carried out their own plans further south. The huntress mewled in pleasure, sounding vaguely like a cross between a wolf and a tiger, as her lover continued working his talented lips down her body. Upon reaching her panties, Ellis couldn't help but chuckle at the flimsy cotton undergarment, covered in pictures of cute little puppies. He breathed deeply, his lover's scent of arousal making his vision blur. He ran his tongue up the moist groove in the center of the cotton barrier, and with that first taste both of them groaned lustily. He did this a few times, his nose bumping the covered love button atop her slit, every lick making his huntress squirm and whine. Ellis slowly drew the soaked cotton barrier down Jade's gorgeous thighs, letting the wind take it from his fingers when it cleared her ankles. Revealed to the night air and his ravenous eyes was the entrance to her most desired place. Adorned with a thin coat of light brown hair, the vertical slit into paradise was pink, tight, and drooling. White nectar seeped from the tight crack, one large "teardrop" beckoning to him._

_Ellis growled like a true hunter and dove face first between his lover's legs, forcing his tongue into that tight entrance to suck more of the white nectar from within._

_Jade arched her back and howled as the warm fleshy thing licked her intimate spot, her claws running through the mane of hair that was wriggling between her legs. Even through her panties, Ellis' tongue was magic. But once he bared the entrance to her core and licked, it was too much for her to contain. She was trying to resist at first. Not him, but herself. She was fighting her instincts, her humanity beginning to wrestle control away from her primal side, though she was far from completely recovering her senses. If she had, she'd have been mortified of her lustful behavior and for scaring her lover. She would've taken off like a bat out of hell and probably gone to the other side of the earth. She'd almost found her voice. Almost regained control of herself. Somewhere in the recesses of her mind, her "tamed" humanity was trying to reason with her, but when Ellis licked her, the voice of reason was but a candle flame compared to the supernova that her lust exploded into. She wanted him! Now!_

_Even from flat on her back, she was up in an instant, the cold on her crotch longing for her lover's warmth. Ellis sprung to his knees but was too slow this time. Jade lunged, falling clumsily onto him, grinding and rubbing against his crotch as she nibbled his neck. Ellis bit at her ear and flipped both of them over, ready to give her what she wanted, but Jade's instinct demanded she be on top. The lovers flipped each other over and over, Ellis practically laughing as he tousled with his needy huntress. Their lips met again, hot breaths snorting from each others noses while their lips held their faces together._

_However neither of them were aware that they were rolling a little less than parallel to the edge of the roof, each tumble of grunts and kisses bringing their heads closer to the edge. And when Ellis suddenly felt his shoulders catch only air and his head fall back to see the sky upside down, did he suddenly realize this. Jade panted and pressed her wet mound against the underside of the Ellis' manhood, the huntress' slitted entrance slathering sexual drool all over the mechanic's tool._

"_Wait! Jade we's about ta.." Ellis started, but Jade didn't seem to care. Another rock of the hips and Ellis was swallowed into the tight recesses of the woman atop him. Jade screeched excitedly and slammed her ass down, her claws smashing into the concrete edge of the rooftop, sending chunks of rock falling twenty stories to the streets below. _

"_Ahh fuck!" Ellis roared as his lover took him. Even with death only a foot away, it felt like he was on the edge of heaven. Jade began to ride him like a prize bull, impaling herself over and over._

_Ellis had a death grip on the huntress' hips; every time Jade slammed herself down she was pushing with her legs and nudging them ever closer to the edge. The young mechanic arched his back, simultaneously meeting his eager lover's tempo while trying to move them both away from a premature end to their coupling. The lust-crazed huntress cried out at her captor probing even deeper within. She lost herself to this act, pushing down harder still. The two lovers established a rocking motion, Jade's riding pushing Ellis shoulders to the edge of the roof, and his own counter-thrust moving them back away. Their pace had sped considerably in a short amount of time. Jade was riding him so fast her bouncing breasts were a blur. A bead of sweat ran down her perfectly smooth, toned stomach, ending at the patch of matted hair that framed where her legs met. The country boy felt a familiar tightness in his balls at the sight of it. He swore he could see his hardness pushing her flat tummy out with every thrust. The thought of being so deep inside her; the fact that he brought out her inner beast was intense. He needed to fill her tummy, make it practically swell with all the cum her pussy was trying to milk from him. He'd be damn fool not to._

_Ellis roared and arched his back once more, this time holding his lover half off the roof as he ejected his load into her. Jade screeched and craned her head to the sky, squirting her own passion all over her love's hips. She convulsed, pushing down on him to ensure every bit of his release made it inside her. _

_They slowly came down from their orgasm and the pull of gravity, the huntress falling completely onto the survivor. Ellis felt the cold grit of the roof on his back, but it was nothing compared to the warmth of his green-eyed lover, who was purring in his ear as though asleep._

_The young mechanic stroked his lover's hair, finding himself at a loss for words for the second time._

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"It wuz th' only time ah remember bein' quiet... well, afterwards." Ellis whispered to the blushing beauty, both of them huddling together like they guarded the greatest secret in the world. Jade only nuzzled his cheek and hugged him tight, as though trying to hide her face from the room, though no one paid the cuddly couple any mind.

"Ellis. Jade. You guys are next." Zoey said with a satisfied smile. Like the cat who'd eaten the canary.

"Thanks Zoey. C'mon lets see the lil ones." Ellis and Jade sprung up and hurried down the hall.

"Whaaaat?" Pandia whined. "But I thought family would get to go next!"

Louis only shrugged. "They asked to see Ellis and Jade next. No idea why."

"Probably just saving the best for last," Nick said, pecking the white witch on the cheek.

Pandia giggled. "You're just saying that to take my mind away from my little siblings."

"It worked, didn't it? Ow!" Nick flinched when Pandia pinched his side.

Trying to change the general subject, Isabella spoke up. "Good thing there were enough of those 'earmuffs' to go around," she said while running a brush over her raven black hair to remove any tangles. She slid her arms around her love, embracing him and resting the top of her chin on his shaven head.

"No kiddin'," Francis mumbled, thinking about how much Eris' screams made his head spin even while _wearing_ the ugly yellow earmuffs. He wished he hadn't looked either. Not that he could see anything in detail, but the silouhette behind the sheet looked horrific enough. And he swore he felt a drop of _something _hit his cheek. "Shoulda had eye protection too."

"Oh come off it. There was a sheet up, so it's not like you could see any of what was going on." Alexis teased. Both of them had seen more than their fair share of blood and gore, between herself working in a hospital and her boyfriend blasting literally hundreds of zombies to chunky kibbles. The R.N. honestly thought her man would be able to handle simply "hearing" childbirth like it was nothing.

"Besides," Isabella chimed in, "Are you saying you're not going to be by madre's side when it's _her _time?"

"He better if he knows what's good for him." Alexis said flatly.

"Will _you_ be?" Francis asked the exotic RSI.

"A ridiculous question, 'padre'." The former smoker said with a smile, bending over to peck him on the lips. "You know we're inseparable," she continued, sliding her hands around her adoptive parents. "All of us."

Francis chuckled at that, remembering just _how _inseparable the three of them had become the night of the wedding.

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_Francis was taken off his feet with Isabella's body charge, the two of them spilling half onto the couch and the surprised R.N., all three of them crashing to the floor._

"_Shit!" Francis swore and tried to push the raging smoker off his naked form, but it was no use. Isabella's tongue had withdrawn from the R.N., and in the next instant she forcefully grabbed the back of Francis' head and smashed their lips together, kissing the biker with a raging passion that was bubbling over._

_Francis gasped and sucked air when Isabella released him, his mind still trying to decide if he should try to subdue Isabella or... or what? She wasn't hostile. A little rough, yes. But then he kinda liked it. Hell, what would Alexis think of all this? She got off of him, then focused on the stunned R.N._

"_Izzy! What's gotten into...mmmph!" Alexis mouth was suddenly sealed by the smoker's lips in a passionate kiss. Alexis pounded a fist against Isabella's arm in protest, but it was clear it did nothing to deter the horny RSI, who was now completely on top of her sponsor. The R.N. moaned into the kiss, her "daughter's" eager hands pawing and mashing her bared breasts. Alexis ran her hands over Izzy's rump, pinching the round derierre and making the smoker jump in her embrace. Isabella's hands left Alexis' chest for a second and she moved into a kneeling position, fumbling with her catering pants to unbutton them. Alexis grunted and broke the kiss, yanking the pants to her ankles. She stood up in a startle at the sound of tearing cloth; Izzy had ripped her shirt off and threw it to the floor. As the smoker yanked her bra off she stood up bare, not the least bit shy._

_This time Alexis crashed into Isabella, resuming their kiss with even more lust than her partner, grinding their chests together. She nearly lost herself in the moment, but then she remembered..._

"_Uh.. damn." Francis said, finally regaining his own footing and staring at the two women, who looked as though they'd been caught on camera. The two froze and stared, Izzy's tongue having withdrawn and idly toying with the ebony goddess' slender neck. _

"_Izzy!" Alexis gasped as she pushed away, remembering herself. She stared between her two lovers, waiting for something to be said. The panting former smoker seemed just as indecisive, switching between her naked "madre" and the man she loved who was just as bare. _

"_Francis. God I'm so sorry!" The R.N. cried, fearing she may have just thrown everything away she'd rebuilt with her man, over a moment of passion with her ex lover. _

"_I... uh..." Francis started, also having a tough time deciding who to stare at. His ebony lover was so curvy, but Izzy's lithe body was just as alluring. His lower appendage pointed out like a diving rod. Alexis visage shifted from worried, to confused, then to her coy, cheeky grin. _

"_You pervert," she said slyly. Francis opened his mouth to defend his understandable lechery, but Alexis silenced him by grabbing his thick arousal, then beckoned Isabella to join them. The RSI stared at her sponsor with needy eyes, asking silent permission._

"_Go on, touch it," the R.N. whispered as she took her "daughter's hand and placed it where hers once was._

_Isabella cooed and squeezed the hot, rigid member with fascination, while Francis only groaned. Taking that as her cue, the former smoker dropped to her knees and coiled her python-like tongue around the thick appendage as she drew it into her mouth. Alexis followed suit, kneeling beside her to get an up-close view of the action. A guttural groan seemed to resonate between all three of them, Isabella getting wet at tasting her madre's juices mixed with the biker's skin, Francis giving into what he knew would be the best blow job of his life, and Alexis touching herself at the erotic sight of two people she loved engaged in such a carnal act._

"_Doesn't her tongue feel good baby?" Alexis purred,looking up at her lover while she gently petted Izzy's head, encouraging her._

_Francis could only answer with a groan as his cock was completely enveloped. The smoker's tongue would coil around him and squeeze, then unwind before winding around again and squeezing. It was unlike anything he'd ever felt before. His rough hands slid over Izzy's cheeks and to the sides of her head, suddenly slamming her onto him. Izzy gulped and gagged but met the challenge head on, her brown eyes looking up pleadingly. She moaned, her mouth full of what she'd wanted for so long._

"_Fuck her face Francis," Alexis gasped, working her dripping sex over now with both hands. The RSI and survivor bucked their head and groin together in a primal, savage manner, which only turned Alexis on more. Several times Izzy gagged and a burst of drool erupted from her stuffed lips. The slimy residue hung from her chin in ropes, which dribbled down to her breasts. Her lover's balls, which at first were slapping her chin, had now tightened up in preparation._

_Francis roared and shoved Izzy's head into his crotch as he came. "Mother" and "daughter" groaned together when the biker's entire body shook with orgasm. The first shot went right down the smoker's throat, which in turn caused her to gasp and pull off, the second and third shots splattering on her chest._

_Isabella fell onto her rump in a kneeling position, gasping for breath while her serpentine tongue, which seemed to have a mind of its own, licked her breasts clean of her lover's hot, sticky cum._

"_Geezus," Francis huffed, putting a palm to his face. God damn but he'd never come so hard from getting head. Isabella's tongue was tighter than any pussy he'd ever stretched out before. Once the spots cleared from his vision, he looked down to find Alexis and Isabella kissing, the two women sharing his load. _

_Even though he felt like he'd fed Izzy a quart of cum, he was still hard as a rock. _

"_Want more, stud?" Alexis gasped, breaking the kiss with her RSI._

"_Mooorree," Izzy moaned and fell on her back, legs spread like a needy, shameless whore. But unlike a harlot, her vertical smile was perfect and tight. One would guess her to have never been touched before._

"_Don't forget me, big boy," Alexis added, turning around on all fours and wiggling her rump before she crawled on top of her "hija."_

_Francis took in the scene before him, trying to burn it into his mind in case this never happened again. Before him were two of the most beautiful women he'd ever seen, but it was their position that made it so unique. Alexis was still on all fours over Isabella, but she'd managed to slip her cocoa calves under Izzy's olive skinned thighs. This gave the tattooed survivor two entrances to heaven, both of them so close together they almost looked as though they were one._

_Which left him with a rather frustrating, but no less enjoyable, choice to make._

_Izzy and Alexis were both squirming and writhing together in anxious anticipation as their man drew closer, both kissing like the lovers they were. Their fingers were interlocked, Alexis holding Isabella's arms out to the sides as though pinning her down. She cooed at the feeling of Francis' hands squeezing her cheeks, and she could swear she felt his knob brush between them._

_But when she felt Izzy's breath hitch, she broke the kiss and saw her hija whimper._

"_Mierde... es tan grande." The stunned Latina panted, her eyes watering a little._

"_I know sweetie, but you'll get used to it," Alexis said, backing her rump up so Francis hips would smack her ass he slammed into Izzy. Alexis resumed kissing her daughter, rocking with her undulating body. It was like Francis was taking them both at the same time._

"_Do you like this?" Alexis purred in Izzy's ear. "Tell me."_

"_That's my line," Francis grunted between thrusts._

"_I love it," Isabella gasped, hooking her long, slender legs around Francis' calves. "The two people... I love... at the same time."_

"_My little hijaaaaahh!"_

_Alexis was about to say something about her daughter being as "spoiled" as her mother, but Francis had decided just then to change places, his length filling the sexy R.N. to the hilt as he bottomed out in her. Her comment turned to a cry of surprise but was silence just as quickly by Izzy's hungry mouth._

"_Fuck you're so tight," Francis groaned, burying his vanilla stick into the perfect upside-down chocolate heart before him. It wasn't that either woman was tighter than the other, but more like they both had their own unique feeling as they coiled around him. It was like comparing apples and oranges, but oh so much the sweeter._

_Francis was good to share between the two women, fucking one for a while before quickly pounding the other. Despite the turn-taking, only one of them would get the brunt of his orgasm. He hated choices like this._

_And he would have to make it fast._

"_I'm not... gonna last much longer." He grunted, thrusting faster._

"_Complazcan el papá," Izzy moaned as her turn resumed. She was so close to cumming, but every time Francis gave fair due to Alexis, her pending orgasm would subside. It was maddening. "La elasticidad él to mí."_

"_C'mon stud," Alexis groaned, rubbing her swollen clit with a free hand as she kept her own fire burning. "My pussy's on fire and only your thick ball cream can put it out. Come in me!"_

"_No! Come in me!" Isabella groaned. _

"_Not a chance," Alexis said confidently. "Francis knows which pussy is best." She looked over her shoulder with a coy yet expectant stare._

"_I... hate... decisions." Francis huffed as he pulled out of the RSI's tight hole._

_Izzy whined and Alexis grinned as the biker made his choice._

"_So I'm doing this _my _way," Francis grunted, slipping his slickened cock between the two vertical smiles that were pressed together, one on top of the other. Both women gasped in surprise but didn't object as the object of their desire rubbed both their clits at the same time, fucking between their bodies._

_Alexis crashed her lips into the woman beneath her, a rough yet not unpleasant means of sharing their arousal. The R.N.'s head was swimming; the new stimulation an immense turn on. Between the friction of her lover's rod rubbing her engorged clit and the sensation of her other lover's heart racing against hers, she was going to come very soon. _

_Isabella returned her "madre's" kiss, her serpentine tongue actually pistoning like a cock as they kissed. It was all too much. She never thought she could feel such intensity from the two people she adored at the exact same time, but she was. She only wished it would last longer, but she was already about to climax._

"_Oh fuck," Francis groaned, picking up the pace. This was it. He was going to give them both what they wanted, at the same time!_

"_Give it to us," Alexis gasped, breaking her kiss for just a moment._

"_Si papi!" Izzy chimed in._

_Francis roared and slammed into the two of them so hard he felt his hip bones vibrate, and then everything he had erupted between them._

_The two women cried as their orgasms arrived together, each bringing her arms around the other in a tight hug. And in the next instant, the feeling of hot, sticky cum blasted them both between their tummies, further lubricating their gyrations._

_The three lovers fell apart, the two women rolling to the sides to allow their man to lay in the middle. The RSI hugged her survivor's muscular form from behind, purring and nuzzling his neck. Francis lay on his side, idly kissing her coca-skinned lover, who placed her arm around him, her hand and her "daughter's" hand finding each other and folding together as they both held him._

"_Mmmm... Francis," Alexis purred in his ear. But he was already falling into blissful slumber. "Francis... Francis..."_

_._

* * *

.

"Earth to Francis."

"Wha?" The tattooed survivor's head popped up like he'd fallen asleep in class.

"Space out much, big boy?" Alexis said teasingly.

The biker stared vacantly for a moment, then ran a hand over his face. "Yeah... I... just hate waiting is all."

"Well you don't have to anymore because it's our turn." Isabella said excitedly. Sure enough, Ellis and Jade were back, both of them looking like they'd just won a damn lottery.

"Groovy," Francis sighed. Nothing against Bill or Eris, but newborn kids weren't his thing.

"Grooooovy," Pandia and Selene said, mocking him. Zoey and Louis couldn't help but laugh at that.

"Mock me all ya want 'ladies'," Francis said to the black and white witch twins. "But I get to see your siblings before you do!"

But instead pouting or glaring, Selene rolled her eyes and Pandia laughed heartily, leaving the biker confused.

"You must've really been out of it honey," Alexis said, kissing his cheek. They've already been in to see Bill and Eris with their kids.

"Oh. Probably just saving the best for last eh?" Francis said with a grin.

"That's my line, greasy." Nick said with a smirk.

"Bite me Colonel Sanders," Francis mumbled as he was led off to see his God children.

.

* * *

.

Two tiny bundles of joy peered out of from their wrappings, their cries of apprehension silenced with curiosity when held by the loving arms of their mother. Both had a thin layer of platinum hair that barely covered their otherwise bald heads. Rosy, flesh colored cheeks filled out their round faces, each with a small button nose and lips pursed together in curiosity and comprehension. But all of this could be easily overlooked thanks to their eyes. The left child, wrapped in his blue blanket, had a gray right eye and an amber left eye. The right child in her pink swaddle had an amber right eye and a gray left eye. Held side by side, it was as almost as though they shared the twin amber eyes of their mother.

"They have your eyes," Bill said, gently presenting a finger to his son. The little baby gurgled and grabbed the war vet's finger with a tiny hand, but instead of five chubby digits, there were the faintest impressions of pointy, yet dull, claws. "And your hands."

"They have your eyyyyes too, darling," Eris sighed happily, gently stroking the cheek of her little girl, who tried in vain to suck at the trimmed claw of her mother as though she would get milk from it.

The twins remained silent, their mix-matched eyes taking in the world around them with astonishment, most especially the two people who looked back at them with an equal amount of astonishment and adoration. A pin could have dropped, but instead a whispered question broke the silence.

"Biill," Eris asked softly, staring at their babies. "What shall we name them?"

Before Bill could answer, the first visitors were already knocking on the door.

.

* * *

.

Two years later...

The glow of the setting sun lit up western facing sides of Rayford's buildings like a motionless fire. Atop one of the tallest of these buildings, was cast an elongated shadow of an angel, it's owner approaching the roof's edge. The wind whipped and blew against her, as though trying to push her back, but she did not falter.

It was time, she knew.

"Eris! Wait!" Shouted the voice of her husband from the center of the building. He'd thrown open the door and was running in a huff.

"Whhhyyyy?" Eris sang, turning to face him.

"I... are you sure you want to do this?" Bill asked, his aged gray eyes filled with doubt and worry.

"Yes my love."

The war vet sighed and shook his head. What he wouldn't give for a smoke right now. Ever since Eris had taken the chance to use her wings, she was hooked on the sensation of flying. The first time she was only aloft for a few minutes, landing to the ground rather clumsily, nearly breaking her ankle in the process. But the feeling of the wind in her hair and the sight of the town from so high was enthralling to the gray goddess, so she tried again and again. With practice, gliding from high places became as natural as walking, and on a few occasions the winged goddess was able to gain altitude by flapping her wings. Now, flying was a routine enjoyment she partook in almost every evening, about when the sun was setting. Several times she wanted to try carrying Bill with her, to fully experience this new sensation with the man closest to her heart, but the war vet was insistent about remaining earthbound, more because he felt he'd be too heavy for her than any fear of heights. Their very first argument was over her desire to take their children into the skies. Though no longer infants, the two toddlers were still far too young to be exposed to something so dangerous. Eventually, however, the stubborn war vet conceded to his love's desires after many nights watching her fly as effortlessly as a bird on the wind.

But he was still nervous as all hell.

"This old man would be lost without his family."

"You'll never lose us." Eris said reassuringly. She held up two giggling bundles of cloth, the kids so wrapped up you could barely tell there was a two-year-old inside each one. The war vet took them in his arms and gave each a kiss on the forehead.

"Daddy loves you," Bill said as he handed the apples of his eyes back to their mother. "You be good for mommy. Don't try squirming out of her arms."

Eris arched her eyes and smirked, leaning in close. "And where's my kiss, papa?"

Bill pulled his wife into a long embrace, kissing her with a fiery glow that rivaled the setting sun, but would never fade.

"Iiii loooooveee yooou Biillll," Eris sang, her wings fluttering.

"I love you Eris." Bill said.

The gray goddess turned to the edge of the roof, feet in a wide stance, her legs bending.

"Hold on my little ones," she said, flapping her wings once.

And with that, she leaped off the building, disappearing from sight.

The war vet was practically on his goddess' heels, peering down the thirty story plunge his wife had just taken. His heart was beating a mile a minute as she continued to dive.

She'd already fallen almost ten stories. Normally she would be airborne by now. It had to be the extra weight of their kids. He knew it would be too much. No! She was going to fall to her...

And then like a kite catching an updraft, he saw her enormous black wings open, turning her sudden descent into a full out glide.

The war vet let out a breath he forgot he was holding as his love gained altitude, flying across the sunset sky like a true angel, the faint sound of his children giggling carried on the wind. He noticed several soldiers stationed at guard towers around the outskirts of the town took a moment to watch the soaring siren. He couldn't blame them; his wife was truly a sight to behold, in the sky or on the ground.

It was incredible, but the old vet still felt a pang in his heart since he couldn't be right up there with her. He worried, since she didn't always stay within sight, either flying far too high up to see or well out of range of the base. Thank god she agreed that she would not venture outside the outskirts of the town with their children in her arms.

Bill smiled faintly as Eris swooped low, just over the treetops of Rayford park, toes rustling some of the leaves and annoying a few nesting birds. With another flap she regained altitude and sailed further into the town, away from the park and out of sight, the war vet's smile fading as she did from his view.

She would come back. She always did. But the war vet still missed her terribly. He remembered back when she wouldn't have dared tried using her wings to glide, let alone fly. It seemed like only yesterday.

Then again, a lot of things seemed like they were only yesterday. It was only yesterday that Louis and Zoey were trying to get pregnant, and that was still the case, but for the second time. Their first was a boy, born only a year after his own children. He chuckled at the memory of Louis' face: An exhausted expression turning into outright astonishment when his new wife said they would keep trying till they had a girl. The poor systems analyst looked wiped dealing with one child; two would probably kill him. He tried to talk some sense into his fiance, but Zoey wouldn't crack, tough nut that she was.

Francis and Alexis were pregnant for the first time, about three months along if he remembered correctly. Isabella was ecstatic to have a "little sister" especially since she wasn't sold on having children herself. That suited Francis; the idea of just settling down was hard enough for the lone wolf that he was, but the realization of becoming a father had finally broken the biker of his selfish attitude... somewhat.

Another evening breeze kissed the war vet's face, his brow furrowed in thought. The other four survivors had come a long way as well. Though he wasn't nearly as close to them as he was his three comrades, the eight of them shared a bond through different members of their groups. Coach had taken a liking to his dance partner from Bill's wedding, and the two of the were teaching cooking classes to those interested. The former con man Nick was decidedly happy in a polygamist relationship with Pandia and Selene. The white witch was trying to get pregnant, while her dark sister wanted nothing to do with kids. Nick didn't mind either way, which was surprising to everyone given his rather aloof attitude. He and Francis must've attended the same school of "I-don't-give-a-shit."

Then there was Ellis and Jade, the happy go-lucky mechanic and RSI huntress had stunned Dr. Allan and the medical staff when they announced several months ago that they were expecting. This opened up a whole new set of questions since it was believed that RSI procreation (with one exception) was all but impossible.

Rochelle had a fling with Sgt. Powers that lasted for a time, but both decided they weren't ready for anything serious, as their work had just begun. The former U.K. soldier remained in the states, he and Frank the Tank spearheading the campaign to reclaim entire towns. The petite bi-racial girl had fulfilled her dreams of becoming a news reporter. In fact, she was the first reporter to appear on television since the outbreak, once the local broadcast tower had been recaptured. She gave a compelling address about the progress being made in defeating the MR-1 virus, and the resulting unification of humanity, both "infected" and "non-infected" living together in peace, here in Rayford. Though it was yet unknown how many people they'd reached, it was a monumental speech about life in the new world. When more of the US had regained telecommunications, the president himself requested permission to use Rochelle's speech as the basis for his own address to the entire nation. A great honor indeed.

Yes. So many things were changing as fast as the setting sun, the orange fire in the sky having smoldered into a faint red and purple glow as dusk arrived. It scared him sometimes, they way it all happened so fast. Just like his age. He never thought his own "dusk" would be upon him so quickly.

The war vet felt a sudden gust of wind as a familiar angel landed next to him with a flap of her wings, the two bundles of joy in her arms still alight with excitement and adrenaline from their first flight. Bill's son gurgled and reached for him, the war vet taking him from his mother and holding him aloft. It was as though he couldn't get enough of the dizzying heights. Their daughter cooed and nuzzled the gray goddess' breast, content to stay in her mother's arms.

As they stood beneath the starlight sky, Bill looked into the eyes of his children: The colors of steel and fiery amber a visual juxtaposition of their mixed blood.

Yes. Dusk had arrived.

"I looove yooou Biiil," Eris sang again, kissing him tenderly and wrapping her wings around her entire family.

"I love you too Eris."

But the dawn of a new age had begun.

.

* * *

.

Final A/N: Thanks again to everyone who's reviewed and who will review this final chapter. I hope everyone has enjoyed reading this story as much as I've enjoyed writing it. Several readers have asked if I'm going to write another sequel, to follow up on the aftermath of the aftermath, or to go into detail on the fates of our heroes' children. The thought has crossed my mind, after all it can't all be milk and honey from here on out, however I simply don't have the time to devote to such an undertaking and it would be unfair to my readers to have them waiting months at a time for updates.

So...

If anyone (or group of people) wishes to attempt to write a sequel to Double Feature, know that you have my blessing. All I ask is you give proper credit where it's due. That is, when you talk about the legal disclaimer and what characters belong to Valve, you also mention what characters and such belong to me. Aside from that, it's your story to continue. I'm also more than happy to share ideas with how to continue the story, again so long as proper credit is given.

Again, its been a pleasure! So until next time, adieu!


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